“Hello, we met in the lobby . . .” said John.

“You’re English?”

“Yes.”

“Does your wife work here?”

“No.”

“Then why are you looking for her here?”

“She rang in.”

“She rang in from somewhere else, right?”

“Yes.”

“So why are you looking for her here?”

“Um . . .”

“John was ringing the show about his missing wife but got cut off when his friend jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“She didn’t jump,” said John.

“Didn’t she?” said Penny.

“Beth didn’t jump?” said my brother.

“No.”

“That’s good,” said Ali.

“That’s good,” said Penny.

“Did you stop her from jumping?” asked my brother.

“No, she just decided not to,” said John.

“That’s good because she wouldn’t have thanked you if you’d tried to stop her.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s good.”

169

The KKRC controller wished they would spice the dialogue up a bit. He thought the “fucking” from before was good. He could let a few of those go fine.

168

The pharmaceutical CEO dialed the ex-agent with trembling hands.

“Are you listening to the Penny Lock phone-in show?”

“I was but I got kicked out of my cab. Anyway, you’re a piece of shit. I don’t talk to pieces of shit. Unless they’re giving me ten thousand dollars, in which case—”

“Tamy’s got a gun to her head.”

“Good.”

“What? You asshole.”

“You’re the asshole.”

“My daughter’s got a gun to her head, you asshole.”

“Perhaps the pilot flipped.”

“He’s not a fucking pilot.”

“How do you know?”

“I want the best man on the job. Pull some strings. Get some sharpshooters down there.”

“You want the pilot shot?”

“Stop calling him a pilot.”

“You want Kermit the Frog shot?”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Where’s my money?”

“You fucking asshole.”

Click.

The ex-agent flagged down another cab. The driver responded to his ID without question and drove like the wind.

167

Samuel Thorn arrived at Dr. Frankburg’s house. They shook hands. Sam said “Good evening” as he did so and Frankburg felt vibrations in his fingers. The voice really was very resonant, especially up close.

166

“This is dead air,” said my brother. “We should play a record.”

“What would you like?” said Penny.

“I don’t know. Something by Frank Sinatra.”

“Well, sure, but that’s usually Tamy’s job, she does that kind of thing.”

“Who’s Tamy?”

“She’s the woman whose head you have a gun to.”

“Right. Sorry, I forgot. Hi, Tamy.”

“Hi.”

“Today is her birthday,” said Penny.

“Many happy returns,” said Edward.

“Thank you.”

“Have you got any Frank Sinatra?”

“Yes, but I’d have to go into the store to get it.”

“Where’s the store?”

“Next door.”

“I guess we’ll leave it then.”

“I guess so.”

“My analyst tried to tell me I was Frank Sinatra,” said Edward.

“Really?” said Ali. “Sounds like a bit of a quack analyst.”

“Yeah, that’s what I think.”

165

Clara was outraged. That was a total misinterpretation of what she was trying to do.

164