Hit List

suit jacket was hanging from a peg on the side wall.
    “Elwood Murray?”
    “Yes?”
    “I’ll just need a minute of your time,” Keller said, and closed the door. That would keep them from being observed by anyone passing in the hall, but the act was enough to alert Murray, and one look at Murray’s face was enough to put Keller in motion. Murray moved first, his hand darting into the desk’s center drawer, and Keller threw himself forward, hurling himself against Murray’s desk and shoving it all the way to the wall, pinning Murray and his chair, jamming the drawer shut on his hand.
    Murray couldn’t open the drawer, couldn’t get his hand out, couldn’t move. Keller could move, though, and did, and got his hands on the man.
    “Oh, good,” Dot said. “You got the message.”
    “What message?”
    “On your machine. You didn’t get it? Then why are you calling?”
    “Mission accomplished,” he said.
    There was a pause. Then she said, “I suppose that means what I think it means.”
    “There aren’t too many different things it could mean,” he said. “Remember the errand you asked me to run this morning? Well, I ran it.”
    “You’re not still in New York, then.”
    “No, of course not. I’m in . . . well, I can see the Arch from here.”
    “And I don’t suppose it’s the McDonald’s across the street, is it? And you already did what you went there to do.”
    “Or I wouldn’t be calling. Dot, what the hell’s the matter?”
    “They called it off,” she said.
    “They . . .”
    “Called it off. Changed their minds. Canceled the contract.”
    “Oh.”
    “But you didn’t know that.”
    “How would I know?”
    “You wouldn’t, not unless you happened to check your machine, and why would you do that? Well, what’s your plan now, Keller?”
    “I thought I’d come home.”
    “You’re not going to visit some stamp dealers? Spend a few days, find a nice Mexican restaurant?”
    “Not this time.”
    “Probably just as well,” she said. “Come home, come see me, and we’ll get this sorted out.”
    “On the way out,” he said, “I had the urge to buy a Pocket Planner. Coming home, it was a set of college courses on video. The country’s best lecturers, the ad said.”
    “Would you watch them?”
    “Of course not,” Keller said. “Any more than I’d use the Pocket Planner. What do I want to plan? It’s funny how it works. You stow your carry-on in the overhead compartment, you make sure your seat belt’s securely fastened, and you start wanting things you never wanted before. They have these in-flight phones, and you can call and order this stuff at no charge.” He frowned. “No charge for the phone call, that is.”
    “What did you buy?”
    “Nothing,” he said. “I never do, but I always think about it.”
    “Keller . . .”
    “Why’d they call it off?”
    “I don’t know,” she said, “because I don’t know why they called it on in the first place. Who was he, anyway?”
    “He had an office,” Keller said, “all by himself, and he had some initials after his name, but I don’t remember what they were. I guess he was some kind of businessman, and I got the impression he wasn’t doing too well at it.”
    “Well, maybe he owed money, and maybe he paid up after all. Which is more than they’re going to do.”
    “The client, you mean.”
    “Right.”
    “Paid half in front, and doesn’t want to pay the balance.”
    “Right again.”
    “I don’t see why. I did what I was supposed to do.”
    “But by the time you did it,” she said, “you weren’t supposed to do it.”
    “Not my fault.”
    “I agree with you, Keller.”
    “They didn’t say go out there and await further instructions. They said do the job, and I did the job. What’s the problem?”
    “The problem is they hate paying for a job they tried to cancel. As a matter of fact, they wanted their advance back.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “Exactly what I told them.”
    “I did the job,” he said. “I should get paid in full.”
    “I told them that, too.”
    “And?”
    “You could call it a Mexican standoff,” she said, “if you’re prepared to run the risk of being politically incorrect.”
    “We keep what they already paid us.”
    “You got it.”
    “And they keep what they owe us.”
    “If you want to call it that.”
    “I don’t know what else to call it,” he said. “Why a Mexican standoff, do you happen to know? What’s Mexican about it?”
    “You’re