Lucifer's Shadow

52 Striking a bargain

Daniel sat in Hugo Massiter’s apartment, watching his multiple reflections in the glass. It was eight in the morning. An hour later they would both walk into the press conference Daniel had demanded. At noon they would attend Scacchi’s funeral. The concert was at eight, with a party afterwards.

The previous evening Daniel had caught one of the late-night stores in Castello and, with money found in one of Paul’s jackets, bought an expensive suit in dark-blue linen, with a matching white shirt and a black silk tie. His hair was now cut in a neat, tight business crop. Massiter raised a single eyebrow.

“You look too commercial, Daniel,” he objected. “Like a broker. Not a composer.”

“I’m sorry. I’m new to this sort of thing.”

“Next time I’ll come with you and offer a little advice. If you’re finally to start thinking about what you wear, a little experience will not go amiss. Please…”

Daniel looked at Massiter’s pale-blue suit and pink shirt, thought about the impending funeral, and wondered whether to say something. Then, before he could speak, he was waved to the sofa.

“Well,” Massiter said. “Thank you for coming here first. I can’t pretend I’m not concerned, Daniel. What’s this about? Why the change of mood? What, exactly, do you intend to say?”

“Whatever you want me to say, Hugo. I thought that was the point.”

Massiter shook his head. “I don’t understand. You’ve been like a recluse ever since poor Scacchi died. Now, out of the blue, you seem suddenly recovered and can’t wait to talk to the press. I’m glad of the former, naturally, but as your principal supporter in this venture, I think I’ve the right to know what you intend to say.”

“Everything but the truth,” Daniel replied. “Isn’t that what you want to hear?”

Massiter looked at him intently. “Amy seems to think you’re troubled, Daniel. She already suspects you’re not the author of this piece and thinks you’re about to tell that to the world to salve some misplaced outbreak of conscience. Is that the case? Because if it is, I have to tell you we would both suffer from the consequences. You’re still due the balance of the arrangement I reached with Scacchi. Fifty thousand dollars. No small sum, as you appreciate, since you negotiated it. More than that, there is, I must repeat, the question of fraud. You’ve been party to a conspiracy. If you wish to turn awkward on me now, we’ll both find ourselves on the wrong end of a criminal investigation. Do you want to go to jail?”

“Of course not,” Daniel replied immediately. “Nor would I want that for you, Hugo. You’ve been kind to me. You were kind to Scacchi too.”

“It was business,” Massiter insisted. “Make no mistake about that. But pleasant business. I hope you’ve enjoyed my company as much as I have yours. I hope, too, that you have picked up a little from me. I have much to teach, Daniel. You, to be blunt, have much to learn.”

Daniel nodded. “I know. But I’m making progress, aren’t I?”

Massiter’s slate eyes darkened. “Yes,” he agreed. “I believe you are. More than I had expected, to be honest.”

“I’m flattered.”

Daniel wondered about the nearness of that other house, the one which had fascinated, and terrified, Laura so much. She had said that Massiter could, perhaps, organise a visit to Ca’ Dario to satisfy his curiosity. There was, he was beginning to realise, so much that could be gleaned from the present situation. He had been a fool to sit back and wait for the prizes to arrive, as if they were his by right.

“Don’t let me down, Daniel,” Massiter said. “Or yourself.”

He smiled into Massiter’s cold face, wondering what it had been like when Amy was here, what means he had used to seduce her, and, most of all, what power his grip still possessed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Hugo. I intend to milk today for everything I can. I’ll make you feel proud of me. Tonight you’ll walk out of that concert the hero of the hour. More so even than me, because I’ll tell them how none of this would have been possible without you. How you’re the benefactor that a true artist — which I am, naturally — requires. But there will be a price, Hugo. Beyond that which we have agreed. You must meet it. There’s no bargaining here. I shall exact it. You shall pay and smile at me all the time.”

“What?” Massiter murmured.

“After the funeral,” Daniel insisted pleasantly. “When my mind is finally settled. Then we’ll discuss it, once Scacchi’s in his grave.”

Massiter glowered, dissatisfied.

Daniel rose and said, “Now come, Hugo. The world awaits us. We mustn’t keep it waiting.”