"Let's just say I hear things. But first we need to strike our deal."

"Of course. As I said, I'll send a telex, from my secure trading room, for what good it may do. But you've got to help me too. Please." He turned back to the river. "You know, Michael, I like my life here. More and more. Even given all that's going on here these days, the pace is still much more civilized than Tokyo. For all our prosperity back home, I think we've traded something very valuable. Call it our soul perhaps.

Here I feel almost free from the old days, part of a real, legitimate world. I hated all the money laundering, the shady deals. These days I can look myself in the face."

"I was temporarily changing professions myself, until about a week ago.

Then this problem came up." He waved to a pleasure boat slowly motoring up the river. It was only a thirty footer, but the lines reminded him of the _Ulysses_. It made him suddenly homesick for real sunshine and real air.

"Michael, what's going on? We need to work together."

"I'll just say this. I think the godfather's got a big surprise cooking. Maybe we're both caught in the middle."

He smiled. "If that's true, we can help each other out. Though I can't push too hard." He took a deep breath and gazed at the murky London sky. "But still . . . I'll tell you the truth. I'm very seriously thinking I may just refuse to touch the whole thing. Tanzan Mino--yes, why not name names? He's even made vague threats against my family. The man has pushed me too far this time. Somewhere it has to end."

"You're a brave man. He still runs some very persuasive muscle. Better have your life insurance paid up."

"I'm well aware. But I don't want to jeopardize everything I've built here. My whole new life. So that's why I need you. If you could find out what's behind all this, I could decide whether I should risk everything and go ahead with the offering. Or just stand up to him at last. Otherwise . . ."

"What's the timing?"

"I have to list the first offering with the Issuing House Association day after tomorrow. We've already put together the paperwork, just in case."

"Pretty tight."

"Michael, I'll see what I can do about your problem. And if there's anything else, you know I'll try my best."

"Depending on whether my message gets through, I could be needing somebody to handle some cash. A reasonably substantial sum. Maybe as part of our little quid pro quo you could arrange it."

"Is this money . . .?" He paused awkwardly. "Well, you understand my question."

"It's laundered. Clean as a hound's tooth."

"Where is it now?"

"Don't worry," Vance smiled. "It's liquid."

"And the sum?"

"Hang on to your bowler hat. It's around a hundred million U.S."

"Is that all?" he laughed. "That figure is barely a blip on the screen these days. For a minute there I thought you were talking real money."

"Seems a reasonably substantial sum."

"It's scarcely more than walking-around money in our business, as you well know. Over two hundred billion passes through the foreign exchange markets every day, a large amount of it right here in London."

"Well, there could be a small complication, if the KGB gets into the action."

"KGB?" He pulled up sharply. "What in bloody hell do they--?"

"It's a long story."

"But why would Soviet intelligence be involved? They're supposed to be keeping a lower profile these days."

"Rumor has it they let this one get past them. The money left home without a passport and now they look like fools for letting it happen."

"I see." He grew silent, then glanced at his watch and pulled his overcoat tighter. "Well, perhaps I should send that cable now. Before Tokyo tucks in for the night."

"The sooner the better."

"And the matter of concern to me?"

"Let me think it over." Vance spoke slowly. "But in the meantime, I'd strongly advise you to hold off with the offering."

"You're not telling me what you know. Is that fair?"

"No. But who said the world's got to be fair? There's a play about to go down. I know about part of it, not all. But before I'm through, well, let's just say that when somebody starts using muscle on me, I sort of lose my sense of proportion."

"Is it that bad?" His stare carried alarm. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Sit tight on the offering. Don't say yes or no, just find a way to postpone it. And send that telex. I'll dictate it for you. After that, you can reach me at my hotel. Strand Palace."

"The Strand Palace? Michael, you?" He smiled. "Hardly up to your usual standards."

"I don't do as much freelance these days as I used to. So I have to learn to live closer to my means."

"I'll believe that when I see it," he said with a laugh. "You're not telling me the truth. About anything."

"You're right. And it's for your own good. You just stall on the offering and let me play this my way. If things aren't straightened out in a day, two tops, we're both in a lot of trouble."

"Two days?"

"It has to happen by then. Too much is going on."

"Now you're really starting to make me alarmed."

"You should be."

Because if this isn't settled in two days, he thought, somebody's probably going to be dead.