Ferrari smiled.
“You’re forgetting I have a certain talent for climbing.”
O’Brien remembered then he had heard that Ferrari’s parents had been circus acrobats, and Ferrari had been trained for the circus. Years ago he had earned a lot of money as ‘The Human Fly’, giving exhibitions of fantastically difficult and dangerous climbs. He had once stopped the traffic on Broadway when he had climbed the face of the Empire State Building for a publicity stunt.
“I shall be there, sergeant,” Ferrari went on. “Make no mistake about it. Can I rely on you?”
O’Brien started to say something, then stopped.
“Some hesitation?” Ferrari said mildly. “I’m surprised. After all, who is Weiner? A cheap, treacherous little crook. You’re not going to risk the fife of your nice little son, are you, for a punk like Weiner?”
“We’ll leave my son out of it,” O’Brien said hoarsely.
“I wish we could, but I have to be certain I can rely on you. You know I never bluff, don’t you, sergeant? It’s his life or Werner’s. Please yourself.”
O’Brien stared helplessly at the dreadful little man, watching him. If Ferrari said it was his son’s life or Weiner’s, he meant exactly that. O’Brien knew there was nothing he could do to prevent Ferrari either killing his son or killing Weiner. He knew that Ferrari wouldn’t give him a chance to kill him: he was far too cunning and quick for O’Brien. Ferrari had never failed to make good a threat. There was no reason to suppose he would fail this time.
“And let’s get this straight,” Ferrari went on. “Don’t try to set a trap for me. Maybe it’ll come off, but I promise you your son won’t live five minutes after you’ve betrayed me. From now on every move he makes will be watched. If anything happens to me, he will be killed. I don’t want to sound dramatic, but that’s the exact situation. You play straight with me, and I’ll play straight with you. Can I rely on you?”