The Devil's Touch (13 page)

There were sagging pouches of bruised grey flesh under his eyes, and the lines bracketing his mouth were deeply etched and more numerous.

He realized the man’s lips were trembling, and as he stared into John Darrow’s blinking bloodshot eyes, Lucien Lance smiled.

It was only then that a young serious-faced man appeared behind John Darrow, stepping out from his hulking shadow. The man was younger than Lucien, dressed in a conservative black suit. He had short black hair, a waxen-pale face, and gold-rimmed spectacles glittered on the end of his beaked nose. His mouth was a thin line across his face, and the expression in his eyes was so sad as to be almost mournful. The man looked up into Lucien’s eyes and nodded.

Lucien turned his attention back to John Darrow. “Glad you could make it, Mr Darrow.” He held out his hand and John Darrow took it almost reluctantly. His grip was trembling, the skin of his fist like putty. “Please come in.”

Darrow stepped into the penthouse entryway, the sad little man close behind him. Lucien noticed the man was carrying a briefcase.

“Who are you?” Lucien demanded.

“This is my lawyer, Lance,” John Darrow’s voice was still a deep rumbling growl. “Saul Neilsen.”

The man offered a soft pale hand but Lucien ignored it. He nodded at the man, but his eyes were fixed on John Darrow’s face.

“Nice to meet you, Saul Neilsen. Now get out.”

There was an instant spark in Darrow’s eyes and for a moment some of the steel seemed to come back into the man. “Now just a minute, Lance –”

“No. You listen to me,” Lucien pointed an accusing finger at the big man. “You called this meeting. You asked for it. I agreed. But I agreed to a private meeting, Darrow – between you and me. If you want to drag your lawyer into this, then the meeting is off and we will do this the hard way. The very hard way. Now either he goes, right now, or this meeting you wanted is finished.”

At that moment Angelica drifted in from the bedroom. She wore a loose-fitting white dress that flowed down over her hips and thighs, and contrasted beautifully against the honey color of her tanned shoulders and arms. A respectful hush fell across the men as they watched her enter.

John Darrow’s eyes inadvertently slid down to her breasts, just long enough to realize she was wearing a bra, and then came back up to her smiling face, his expression a little guilty. “Nice to see you again,” he murmured politely.

“Nice to see you too, Mr Darrow,” she said, masking over the acute embarrassed awkwardness she felt as she recalled the way their dinner meeting had ended.

Lucien watched on for a moment. He smiled benignly. “And this is Mr Neilsen. He’s Mr Darrow’s lawyer – and he was just leaving.”

Angelica’s smile faltered. The tone in Lucien’s voice was unmistakable. She shook the lawyer’s hand.

Lucien went to the door and waited pointedly. Darrow shifted his feet, eyes on the ground for a moment longer. Then he turned to the sad little man beside him and nodded his head curtly. Saul Neilsen retreated back into the foyer and Lucien closed the door behind him.

Angelica saw the uncertainty in John Darrow’s eyes. “He’s afraid,” she realized. “He’s afraid of Lucien.”

She felt a sudden swell of pity for the man, but she forced a bright smile and said simply; “I hope your meeting goes well. Maybe we will meet again under less formal circumstances.”

Darrow nodded.

Angelica kept the smile fixed on her face as she turned to Lucien. “I have to finish getting dressed,” she made her excuse, and Lucien waited until she had left the room again before he turned his full attention to John Darrow.

Lucien turned from the door and came to take Darrow’s elbow and steered him down the steps into the living room.

It was an overcast morning. Thick banks of heavy low cloud hung over the city and a cold wind hunted down the long deep avenues. The curtains of the penthouse had been drawn tight across the big windows, blocking out the view and darkening the room. A lamp burned on Lucien’s desk and he switched on a second shaded lamp as John Darrow slumped into one of the leather chairs and glanced around at the luxurious furnishings.

Lucien splashed whisky into two glasses that were on a tray on the corner of his desk and carried one of the glasses to John Darrow. The big man paused before accepting the drink reluctantly. He sipped.

“It’s early to be drinking. I don’t usually touch the stuff until the afternoon.”

Lucien chuckled. “It’s afternoon somewhere in the world, Mr Darrow. I’ve found, because money spans every time zone, that it’s always a good time to drink.”

When Lucien lowered his glass he asked, “Why did you want this meeting?”

“To talk again. To make a counter-offer. I had a plan to buy back the block of shares you own in Darrow Air. It was a financing deal. I had all the details in my lawyer’s briefcase,” Darrow’s voice rose.

“Ah, yes. Mr Neilsen.”

“He’s good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Lucien said. “You’ll need a good lawyer.”

The two men glared at each other. Darrow leaned back in his chair and Lucien saw a shift in his eyes, the jump of nerves at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re stalling, Mr Darrow,” Lucien declared confidently. “I’ve already told you that I’m not interested in selling my block of shares. I’m interested in buying yours. Now you come here – to my home – with this counter offer financing deal?” Lucien shook his head. “No bank will touch you, Darrow. They can smell the stink of a rotting corpse, and that’s what your airline is.”

He went back to the desk and re-filled his glass and held it up to the light. Across the room John Darrow shifted his weight in the leather chair uncomfortably. Lucien let the silence draw out for long moments.

Then he smiled brilliantly; a smile so unexpected and so warmly charming that the older man was caught completely off guard by the sudden change in Lucien’s demeanor – and it frightened him.

“You are going to sell me every share you control in Darrow Air, including those under your idiot son’s name – and all those shares held in family trusts,” Lucien said.

Darrow’s eyebrows rose suddenly in surprise and alarm. Lucien grinned. “Yes, I know about the family trusts,” he said. “I do my homework too, Mr Darrow. You think you know why people call me Lucifer? It’s better for you that you believe the stories than to experience the reality.”

John Darrow stiffened in his chair. He stared at Lucien incredulously. “Are you threatening me, Lance?” He came to his feet, and his voice was a husky croak.

Suddenly Lucien’s voice cracked like a whiplash.

“Sit down!” There was a ruthless, malevolent gleam in his eyes. Darrow glared and Lucien held his gaze. Darrow faltered and slumped back into the chair under the sheer blazing intensity of Lucien’s sudden anger.

“You are weak,” Lucien said. “You left Darrow Air weak – and vulnerable. Your airline is dead – accept it. Your responsibility now is to do what is best to protect your wealth – and to protect your family.”

There was something veiled and menacing in Lucien’s words and John Darrow’s face began to flush crimson with humiliation and outrage.

“What do you mean by that?” he growled.

Lucien shrugged. “Take it any way you want to.” He sipped calmly at his whisky.

Darrow balled his fists with impotent anger. He knew he was ensnared in an impossible trap. He made to stand again and then arrested the move. In an instant he seemed to age with defeat. His face turned ashen and his shoulders sagged heavily. Lucien noticed how the man’s jaws chewed nervously. There was sheen of perspiration on his brow. He looked deadly afraid. “What do you want?”

“All your shares – at $17.20 per share,” Lucien smiled.

“They’re worth more! A lot more, dammit!”

“Yes, they are,” Lucien agreed. “But what price do you put on piece of mind – John?” he asked softly. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life laying awake at night worried because you have me as an enemy?”

Darrow stared at him in stony silence and Lucien gave the older man a long time to dwell on the thought while he went back to his desk drawer and retrieved a sheet of paper.

“Sign this,” Lucien said at last as he handed the paper to John Darrow.

The man hesitated.

“I will get full control of the airline – either with your shares or without them. If you sign this agreement, you are ensuring your son keeps his generous income and that your lovely wife remains a paid consultant to the company. It’s your choice.”

Darrow’s hand shook as he glanced at the page. He felt cold – like a sickness in his bones so that he worried if he would ever feel warm again. His eyes welled with sudden tears but he blinked them away. He took the pen from his pocket and scratched his signature – and at the same moment he felt the last sparkle of his life flicker and then fade. He sighed wearily.

Lucien’s face lit up with deep satisfaction. He felt the surge of his excitement thumping in his chest.

It was done.

He finished his drink in a gulp. Now the paperwork had been signed he was impatient. He glanced at his watch.

“Mr Darrow, I have another meeting. Thank you for coming. You’ve done the right thing.”

John Darrow stood and walked slowly to the door. Saul Neilsen was waiting in the foyer. The young lawyer came toward him but Darrow brushed the young man’s hand aside and shuffled toward the elevator.

He never once looked back.

Angelica was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out through the windows when Lucien came into the room.

“Is everything okay?”

For a long moment Angelica sat silently, and when she finally lifted her face to his, her eyes shone with tears. “He’s scared of you,” she said.

Lucien frowned. “Who? Darrow?”

“Yes. He’s frightened of you,” she said in a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

She dabbed at her eyes. “When I saw him at the restaurant he was full of energy and attitude. Now – today – he was just a broken empty shell. I could see it in his eyes and his face, Lucien. You frightened him.”

Lucien sat on the edge of the bed. “John Darrow made a choice, that’s all. He decided to sell his shares to me.”

“You mean you pressured him into selling.”

Lucien stood up again and bunched his fists deep into his pockets. He went to the window sill and stared down over the city. “It’s business, Angelica.”

Then he spun around and looked down at her.

“Sometimes business is about pressure and leverage. I used the leverage I had, and Darrow made a business decision based on the options available to him.” He shrugged.

“And that’s how you do business?”

“Sometimes.”

Angelica shook her head. “No, Lucien. It’s not just sometimes, is it? Everything is a business deal. Everything you do is about getting your way, no matter what the price. No matter what the cost.”

Lucien’s anger began to flare. “I’m a winner, Angelica. I’m not weak like my father was, or like Darrow – and I won’t apologize for that. This is what I do.”

* * *

Marvin Skinner was lounging back in a big black leather chair when Lucien walked unannounced into his office. Skinner looked up in surprise. His feet were on his desk, ankles crossed, as he dictated into a voice recorder. He kicked his feet to the ground and switched off the machine.

“Speak of the devil,” Skinner joked. “It’s Lucifer!”

Lucien sprawled into the visitor’s chair on the other side of the desk and set his briefcase on the floor. His smile was enigmatic.

“What brings you downtown again?”

Without a word, Lucien reached into his briefcase. He slid the Darrow Air document across Marvin Skinner’s desk. Skinner gaped.

“Jesus! He signed it?”

Lucien nodded.

“John Darrow? You got John Darrow to sign?”

“Yes. We met at the penthouse two hours ago.”

Marvin Skinner clapped his pudgy hands together. He sprang out of his chair, eyes alight with sudden excitement. “We’re home free,” he enthused. “Lucien, Darrow Air is yours!”

Skinner went to the bar that was concealed discreetly within a tall timber bookcase and poured two whiskies. “Until we can get champagne,” he laughed. He handed a glass to Lucien and raised his own glass into the air.

“A toast,” he announced. “To Lucifer Lance.”

They emptied their glasses quickly and Skinner brought the bottle to the desk. He dropped back into his chair and scanned the page.

“How did you do it?” Marvin Skinner asked. “I thought the son of a bitch was going to fight you all the way.”

Lucien nodded. “So did I. But it seems John Darrow cares about his family. When I said his useless son could keep his cushy job, and his wife could stay on as a consultant, he began to see reason.”

“That’s how you got him to sign? The family card? Man, you’re dealing from the bottom of the deck,” Skinner shook his head. “And Darrow actually fell for it?”

“Hook, line, and sinker.”

Skinner grinned. “Okay – so what’s next?”

“We get rid of the wife and kid, of course.”

“Now?”

“Straight away.”

Marvin Skinner frowned. “Darrow isn’t going to like that.”

Lucien shrugged. “I don’t care. He’s signed the letter of intent. Even if he backs out now I can take that to his board. They’ll fall in line easily enough once they see the offer had Darrow’s approval.”

Lucien snapped his briefcase closed and rose from the chair. He stood over Marvin Skinner’s desk with his bunched fists on the polished surface and a dark shadow passed behind his eyes.

“Send an email to Darrow Air head office,” he said coldly. “I want Darrow junior and his alcoholic mother escorted off the premises before close of business today.”

* * *

Lucien returned in the early afternoon alive with a dangerous vitality that Angelica recognized. His eyes were alight with triumph as he came through the door, his body brimming with energy in need of release.

Angelica came to him with her head bowed, obedient and submissive, and he watched her with glittering dark eyes.

When she was just out of his reach she stopped. She looked up at him and parted her lips provocatively, then moistened them with the tip of her tongue. Her eyes were huge, slanted with sexuality.