A PUPPET ON A STRING

Chapter 7

Then Frank fell silent."My apologies Frank... I did not mean it in that sense. Just that I really do know everything about you. The Agency knows just about everything about anyone it chooses to know about... For example... Take your good friend over there... Tomo... Otherwise known as David Llewellyn Thompson... Originally from Manchester... Pays his taxes... Or most of them... Has a minor gambling habit... Every Tuesday at eleven PM... Calls a sex line and chats with Lola...And he voted Republican in the last election... And he currently holds six hundred and thirty-one dollars and fifty four cents in his bank account." Smith paused to keep the information sink in.

Then concluded."It's my job to know about people."

Frank looked over to Tomo to reconcile the information. And then glared back at Smith. John Smith. Not his real name of course. An agency like his would use bogus names. There was silence as Smith waited for Frank to speak."So what do you know about me?"

"Like I said... Everything." Smith began.

"Did you get your IRS letter yesterday?" Smith asked knowing the answer.

"You know I did?" Said Frank quickly joining the dots.Smith grinned, pleased that Frank was smart enough to understand disposition and the power the Agency had over him.

"Was that you was it? ... A party trick?" Frank asked curiously.

"Something like that... I just wanted to get your attention. I promise I won't do it again..." Smith did not finish the implied warning.

"So how can I help you?" Asked Frank, finally getting to the point.

"It is I who am in a position to help you Frank." Said Smith searching for the right words,

"... Financially."There were other words, but financial was the one that most people understood best. Especially an accountant like Frank. Frank sat up slightly on hearing the word.

What's the catch?" He asked suspiciously.

"No catch. You come work for me and I will keep the wolves from your door." Smith completes the sales pitch.

"You can do that?" Frank eyed Smith.

"I can anything Frank..." Said Smith, looking deadly serious.

"What do I have to do, if I'm not an Accountant?"

"There will be some travel involved... Import-Export... Dispatch mostly,shall we say... All expenses paid of course... But let's not worry about particulars for now.... We can discuss details at another time... I will be town again next week. We can talk then should you still be interested... You would redoing the Nation a great service."

"Oh I'm certainly interested." Frank responded.

"Give me a week to think about it. Though there isn't much to go at this stage."

"We'll talk again soon Frank... I must be off. I have to head back to Washington to write up my report."

"Thank you for your time Mister... Smith. I appreciate the offer."

"I can make the IRS go away Frank... And Marilyn's Visa magically appear..."

"You can do that?" Franks eyes light up at the prospects.

"Of course... Think about it... I'll be in touch with a place and time to meet."

"What about here?" Asked Frank looking about the empty bar.

"Too many ears for my liking Frank... I have your number... Unless you prefer a letter?" Smith allowed himself some amusement.

"No... A call will be find." Frank cringed at the thought of another letter.Frank did not know the name for it but was sure he had a growing phobia for the fear of mail.

Smith leaves his half-full glass of wine unfinished and slides from the booth. Extending his hand to Frank who takes shakes it. Both men meant business. Leaving Frank to his drink and exists the bar to wave down passing cab.

"Hilton, Sixth Avenue" Smith informs the driver.Stage two out of the way. Later he would reel Frank in. Letting the thought of financial freedom take hold first. Just as it had with Thomas. They all came around in the end. Money did that to people.Frank returns his stool at the bar, to resume his paper. Grimm was still transfixed on something only he could see. Tomo wanders over to Frank, keen to hear what had gone down between him and the Smith.

"So... What was that all about? You get a job?" Tomo probes Frank keenly.

"What's your girl-friend's name?" Asked Frank wondering just how much Smith knew.

"Sally... Why you ask?" Tomo acts surprised taken back by the question.

"Not Lola?" Suggests Frank inquisitively.A strange silence came over Tomo.

"How do you know about Lola?" Asked Tomo beginning to look embarrassed.

"Ha! ... He's got your number mate." Frank grins taking a sip from the extra strength bourbon.

"What was that all about?" Inquires Tomo being found out.

"Can't say... All hush hush if you know what I mean... Wants me to come work for him... Told me to think about it."

"Take it man. You'd be silly not to. What would you be doing?" Tomo asks.

"That's the thing... He did not exactly say... Dispatch of some kind."

"I guess Fed-Ex isn't good enough for them... Top secret stuff I suppose."

"Yeah I guess."

"Man... You could be like a secret agent."

"Won't be much of a secret if you know about it."

"My lips are sealed." Declares Tomo taking a vow of silence for the timebeing.

"... Another?"

"Yeah why not... I may as well celebrate something today... Smith? ... You think that's his real name?"

"Nah. Has to be made up... No one is called John Smith... Are they?"

"Don't know ... But he's back in a week to get an answer from me... I'll keep you posted."

The bourbon tasted tenfold sweeter. The aromas smelt tenfold more appealing.Perhaps he was turning a corner. Perhaps today was the day he had been waiting for. Perhaps Marilyn's prayer had been answered. Frank imagined a world of possibilities. Getting his life back again. A fresh start. It was the hope he had been waiting for. Tonight he would celebrate and take Marilyn out on the town.The job was his for the taking. How hard could it be? It was not like he had to kill anyone.