The hit man walked in and sat in the chair facing the desk.
Calvin Hancock sized him up. The man wore glasses, but the eyes behind them were cold.
“They tell me you’re the best.”
“I am.” He said it simply, not bragging, just stating a fact.
“Your fee is exorbitant.”
“I’m worth it.”
“A half a million dollars?”
“At least.”
“I’m told I just have to give you a name.”
“That’s right.”
“You guarantee results.”
“I do.”
“And yet you expect payment in advance.”
“I know I’ll keep my word. I don’t know that about you.”
“I pay my debts.”
“I’m sure you do. I shouldn’t have to depend on it. And collecting is inconvenient, since I only take cash.”
“I don’t know your name.”
“No one does.”
“And yet you have references.”
“Did they give my name?”
“No, they just said him.”
“That’s all anyone ever does. So how did you ask for me?”
“I said I wanted the best. They said you want him.”
“You do.” The hit man appeared bored. “Just give me the money and give me a name.”
“And if you can’t do it, you’ll return the money?”
“If I can’t do it, I’ll be dead. I don’t plan on being dead. I understand I’m not the first person you’ve tried.”
“Who told you that?”
“No one pays a half a million dollars unless they have to. I’m not the first.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’d like to talk to the ones who failed.”
“You can’t. They’re dead.”
“Did he kill them, or did you?”
Calvin Hancock smiled. “I think I like you. All right, half a million dollars.” He picked up an attaché case from the floor and set it on the desk. He opened the top and turned it around. “Hundred-dollar bills. A hundred packs of fifty. Half a million cash.”
The hit man stood, picked up a packet, riffled through it. “That will be fine. What’s the name?”
“Billy Barnett.”
“Who’s Billy Barnett?”
“A Hollywood producer.”
The hit man frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand? I give you the money, I give you the name. That’s what you said.”
“Why is this so hard?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be paying you half a million dollars.”
“Where is this producer now?”
“He was here in D.C., but he checked out of his hotel and is yet to check in anywhere else. He may have gone back to L.A.” Calvin cocked his head. “Will that be a problem?”
The hit man smiled and extended his hand. With his other hand, he fished the hypodermic of untraceable central nervous system paralytic from his jacket pocket.
“Not at all,” Teddy Fay said.