Persuader

said.
    "From a gun store?"
    "From a gun show," I said.
    "Why?"
    "I don't like background checks," I said.
    "Didn't you ask about the scratches?"
    "I assumed they were reference marks," I said. "I assumed some gun nut had tested them and marked the most accurate chamber. Or the least accurate."
    "Chambers differ?"
    "Everything differs," I said. "That's the nature of manufacturing."
    "Even with eight-hundred-dollar revolvers?"
    "Depends on how discriminating you want to be. You feel the need to measure down to the hundred-thousandths of an inch, then everything in the world is different."
    "Does it matter?"
    "Not to me," I said. "I point a gun at somebody, I don't care which individual blood cell I'm targeting." He sat quiet for a moment. Then he went into his pocket and came out with a bullet.
    Shiny brass case, dull lead point. He stood it upright in front of him like a miniature artillery shell. Then he knocked it over and rolled it under his fingers on the table. Then he placed it carefully and flicked it with his fingertip so that it rolled all the way along to me. It came in a wide graceful curve. It made a slow droning sound on the wood. I let it roll off the end of the table and caught it in my hand. It was an unjacketed Remington .44 Magnum. Heavy, probably more than three hundred grains. It was a brutal thing.
    Probably cost the best part of a dollar. It was warm from his pocket.
    "You ever played Russian roulette?" he asked.
    "I need to get rid of the car I stole," I said.
    "We've already gotten rid of it," he said.
    "Where?"
    "Where it won't be found." He went quiet. I said nothing. Just looked at him, like I was thinking Is that the sort of thing an ordinary businessman does ? As well as registering his limousines through shell corporations? And instantly recalling the retail on a Colt Anaconda? And trapping a guest's prints on a whiskey tumbler? "You ever played Russian roulette?" he asked again.
    "No," I said. "I never did."
    "I'm under attack," he said. "And I just lost two guys. Time like this I need to be adding guys, not losing them." I waited, five seconds, ten. I made out like I was struggling with the concept.
    "You asking to hire me?" I said. "I'm not sure I can stick around."
    "I'm not asking anything," he said. "I'm deciding. You look like a useful guy. You could have that five thousand dollars to stay, not to go. Maybe." I said nothing.
    "Hey, if I want you, I've got you," he said. "There's a dead cop down in Massachusetts and I've got your name and I've got your prints."
    "But?"
    "But I don't know who you are."
    "Get used to it," I said. "How do you know who anybody is?"
    "I find out. I test people. Suppose I asked you to kill another cop? As a gesture of good faith?"
    "I'd say no. I'd repeat that the first one was an unfortunate accident I regret very much.
    And I'd start wondering about what kind of an ordinary businessman you really are."
    "My business is my business. It needn't concern you." I said nothing.
    "Play Russian roulette with me," he said.
    "What would that prove?"
    "A federal agent wouldn't do it."
    "Why are you worried about federal agents?"
    "That needn't concern you, either."
    "I'm not a federal agent," I said.
    "So prove it. Play Russian roulette with me. I mean, I'm already playing Russian roulette with you, in a manner of speaking, just letting you into my house without knowing exactly who you are."
    "I saved your son."
    "And I'm very grateful for that. Grateful enough that I'm still talking to you in a civilized manner. Grateful enough that I might yet offer you sanctuary and employment. Because I like a man who gets the job done."
    "I'm not looking for work," I said. "I'm looking to hide out for maybe forty-eight hours and then move on."
    "We'd look after you. Nobody would ever find you. You'd be completely safe here. If you pass the test."
    "Russian roulette is the test?"
    "The infallible test," he said. "In my experience." I said nothing. The room was silent. He leaned forward in his chair.
    "You're either with me or against me," he said. "Either way, you're about to prove it. I sincerely hope you choose wisely." Duke moved against the door. The floor creaked under his feet. I listened to the ocean.
    Spray smashed upward and the wind whipped it and heavy foam drops arced lazily through the air and tapped against the window glass. The seventh wave came booming in, heavier than the others. I picked up the Anaconda in front of me. Duke pulled a gun out from under his