A Shared Confidence by William Topek Read Free Book Online Page A

in the chair.”
    â€œWell, that’s off your back at least,” I told him. I called the waitress over and asked her to bring us some coffee. She made a face but didn’t say anything. We’d been taking up the booth for awhile now, but the place wasn’t all that crowded and I’d leave a good tip. I’d have preferred to do the rest of the talking at Lonnigan’s, but I wasn’t going to be responsible for sending Ryland right back into the bottle. His loss of anxiety over learning he wasn’t a fugitive would quickly be replaced by depression. He was still ruined financially.
    Ryland stirred sugar into his coffee, then slammed his open hand on the table, rattling the crockery.
    â€œThose sons of bitches!” he spat. A few people glanced our way and I motioned for him to keep it down. He looked up at me, eyes narrowing.
    â€œSo what’s my next move? Go to the police, right?” It was the question I’d been dreading because I knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
    â€œYou can try it,” I shrugged. “It’s not likely to do much good, though. Baltimore’s a right town, which means the fix is in. They’re paying off somebody on a regular basis. A chief of police, a district attorney, maybe a few people. It’s the only way they can keep a permanent store set up. Whatever type of complaint you swear out, you’ll never get Stanton or any of his people before a judge.”
    â€œNo offense, Mr. Caine, but I can hardly believe that. If they’re doing this to people all the time, year in and year out, well, how many complaints can the police ignore?”
    â€œThe police don’t get many complaints,” I said. “Very few marks report what happened to them. They’re usually too embarrassed, too ashamed. And they’re not eager for it to get out how easily they got taken. What would their business partners or clients think? How much damage could their rivals do with a story like that? As for the few who do complain, well, that’s what the fix is for.”
    â€œI can still try,” Ryland said stubbornly.
    â€œYes, you can try. But it’s very long odds anyone will go to jail over this. And you’ll never get your money back. It’s gone, Mr. Ryland.”
    He was silent for several seconds, then said simply: “That’s not fair.”
    â€œNo it isn’t,” I agreed. “Not one damn little bit.”
    I paid and we went outside, standing on the sidewalk under the bright sunshine.
    â€œSo what do I do?” Ryland asked again. “What can I do?”
    I turned and looked at him, my hands in my pockets.
    â€œGo home, Mr. Ryland. Face the music. Work with your customers, your suppliers, your employees, and especially your bankers. Grovel a little, a lot if you have to. You built your empire from one little hardware store. You’ve clearly got good business sense.” When you’re not trying to take shortcuts, I thought.
    â€œIt took me almost twenty years,” he said, his shoulders starting to sag again. “I was a much younger man. I built a reputation for myself. When people find out what happened–”
    â€œSo don’t tell them. Tell them you made a bad investment. Hell, a lot of people have made bad investments. A few years back, a whole mess of people made some very bad investments, people who knew a lot more about the stock market than you or I ever will. And a lot of those people ended up jumping out of windows.”
    â€œI’m thirty-five,” Ryland pouted. “I’ll never be able–”
    â€œTo get it all back? Maybe not. Or maybe you’ll build an even bigger empire. Who knows? But you can try your best. That’s all any of us can do.”
    I stepped in a bit closer and looked him in the eye.
    â€œHere’s the truth of it, Mr. Ryland: You’ve been dragged through a river of some pretty foul-smelling stuff. Your