“What? What’s that you’re saying, Tony?” The lawyer shoved his peaked nose between two wattles of the steel.
“I say, nobody’s asking you to. Knowing you, I’ve doped out that part of it so you won’t have to take a chance. Listen, Finburg—there’s a guard here named Isgrid—a Swede or something. And he comes from down on the East Side, the same as you and me. I’ve been working on him. We’ve got friendly. Maybe him and me both having been born on the same block over there beyond the Bowery was what made him sort of mushy towards me—he’s one of those big thick slobs. But it ain’t for friendship only that he’s willing to help. He wants his bit out of it. He’s aiming to quit this job he’s got here and he wants to take a piece of money with him when he quits. Now, here’s what he tells me: He’ll be on the death-watch on me. That last night he’ll slip me the pill, see? Nobody ain’t going to suspect him, he says, and even if anybody does, they ain’t going to be able to hang it on him, let alone get you mixed in with the plant.”
“I suppose I’ll have to see this man,” conceded Finburg; “not that that means I’m committing myself to this undertaking.”
“I thought of that too. Day after tomorrow is Sunday, and Sunday is his day off. He’ll run down to New York and meet you in your office or at your flat, and you can size him up and talk it over with him.”
“It can’t do any harm to see the man, I suppose.” It was plain that the lawyer was convincing himself. “Tell him—only, mind you, this is just an accommodation to you—tell him the address of my rooms and tell him to be there at ten o’clock.”
“One thing more,” stated the killer. “Isgrid wants one grand for his cut.”
“One grand—a thousand dollars!”
“That’s his lowest price. I had to work on him to cut it down to that. And, Finburg, you’ll have to dig up the thou’. He wants it in advance, see? You can pay yourself back—afterwards. That’s up to you.”
“That makes it still more complicated,” lamented the wavering Finburg. “I don’t know—I don’t know.” Figuratively he wrung his hands in an anguish born of desire and doubt.