And he didnt have enough change for a call, anyway. What was he supposed to do, bill it to his home phone? Reverse the charges?
By sticking with Route 30, he managed to bypass Chicago to the south. He liked the highway well enough. The traffic never got all that heavy, and the big trucks mostly kept to the interstate. Towns came along just about often enough to break the monotony of endless highway driving. And there were plenty of places along the way that would have made interesting stops, if he had been able to stop anywhere. But he knew better than to risk it, and drove on past antique shops and nonchain restaurants and all manner of roadside attractions. Someday, he thought, hed have to drive this road again, when he wasnt in a hurry, when he didnt have a compelling need to avoid human contact, when he was able to lead again the life hed led back in the old days, when John Tatum Longford still had a pulse.
But would it ever be like that again?
For hours hed avoided that thought, holding it at bay, keeping it shunted aside on the shoulder of the highway of thought. But it was there now and he couldnt blink it away, couldnt keep from taking a cold-eyed look at it.
One last job. Why couldnt he have told Dot to turn it down?
Hed come back from what was supposed to be his final business trip. Before he left, hed sat down in Dots kitchen while her fingers did their little dance on the keyboard of her computer. She paused, studied the screen, then looked up to advise him that his net worth, as of the stock markets close the previous day, was just slightly in excess
of two and a half million dollars. You figured you needed a million to retire, she reminded him, and I didnt say anything, but when I ran the numbers it seemed to me that you ought to have double that to retire in comfort. Well, youve got that and more.
Two years ago, the Indianapolis job had supplied him with some inside information, and shed opened a trading account to take advantage of it. One thing had led to another, and shed been investing their money ever since. It turned out to be something she was good at.
Thats amazing, he told her.
Well, Ive been lucky, but I do seem to have a definite knack. And most of what youve earned since then, most of what weve both earned, has gone right into the market, and all of that money has just kept on making more money. No wonder the Chinese have taken up capitalism, Keller. Theyre no dummies.
Two and a half million dollars, he said.
You could fill up every last space in your stamp collection.
There are individual stamps, he told her, that you couldnt buy for two and a half million. Just to keep the whole thing in perspective.
Why would we want to do that?
But its still a lot of money, he allowed. If I spend a hundred thousand dollars a year, it should last twenty-five years. Im not sure Ill last that long myself.
A healthy clean-living boy like you? Of course you will, but dont worry about running out of money in twenty-five years, or even in fifty.
And shed outlined what she planned to do, as soon as he gave her the go-ahead. He hadnt followed too closely, but the gist of it was that shed invest the greater portion of his capital in municipal bond funds, yielding 5 percent tax-free, and the rest in stock funds to hedge against inflation. She could set it up so that theyd send him a check every month for $10,000 and never deplete his capital.
There are people who would kill for a deal like this, she told him, but then youve already done that, havent you, Keller? Do this one last job and you can put your feet up and play with your stamps.
Hed pointed out, not for the first time, that one didnt play with stamps, one worked with them, and added that, call it work or play, he never put his feet up while he was so engaged. And he said, One last job.
You say it as if there should be organ music playing. Dum-de-dum-dum.
Well, isnt that how it works? Everything goes fine until that one last job.
The trouble with that big TV, she said, is that you watch too much garbage just because it looks so pretty. Nothings going to go wrong.
And nothing did, remarkably enough, and he came home relieved and relaxed, only to find out that Call-Me-Al, whod sent along a substantial cash payment on account some months previously, now had something for him to do.
But Im retired, hed said, and she didnt argue the point. Shed long since credited his share of Als advance payment to his account, but she could deduct it, and find some way to send it back along with her own cut. Except she didnt know how she could go about doing that, because she didnt have a clue where to send the money. All she could do was wait until Al got in touch, demanding to know what was taking so long, at which time she could explain that her guy was dead or in jail, because they never believed anybody retired from this business, and he could tell her where to send the money.
Couldnt she find somebody else? That way thered be no refund required.