Cavalier walked a few blocks and hailed a cab that took him close to the Roosevelt. New York was alive with traffic jams, honking horns, bright flashing lights and huge, blinking video screens. He began breathing easier.

‘You stayin’ at a hotel?’ the West Indian driver asked.

‘Maybe under a bridge tonight,’ Cavalier said.

The driver laughed.

Cavalier checked his phone. There had been eight calls from Haut. Cavalier rang him.

‘Let’s not say names,’ Cavalier said.

‘Good to hear from you,’ Haut said, with palpable relief. ‘I didn’t want to leave town until I heard from you.’

‘You don’t have to leave.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t have to worry about the stalker anymore.’

‘You’ve …?’

‘You know the old saying “dead men tell no tales”?’

Haut gasped. ‘You’ve …’

‘I have, your Grace. I’ve sinned again.’

After a pause, Haut suggested, ‘Why don’t we meet for a drink? I need one and I reckon you need one too.’

60 A GRAM OF DECEIT

60

A GRAM OF DECEIT

Cavalier and Haut met at the Botanica Bar, East Houston Street, in Lower Manhattan.

‘I’ve been in touch with Wombat,’ Haut said. ‘He’s on his way to New York.’

‘The cavalry is coming! A bit late for the real combat, but that’s fine.’

Cavalier’s eyes roamed over the other patrons. ‘I’m in the mood for an exotic drink,’ he said, looking around the packed bar where women outnumbered the men two to one.

‘Let me buy you a Ginger Yum Yum,’ Haut said. ‘It has rosemary-infused vodka and ginger.’

‘Is that a drink or a red-headed woman?’ Cavalier said.

When the cocktails arrived, Cavalier downed his quickly and ordered another.

‘I always need alcohol and chocolate after adrenaline-pumping moments,’ he said. ‘Helps me come down to Earth.’

‘Can you say anything about—’

‘Best you don’t know anything, Your Grace.’ Cavalier grinned and added, ‘As for my condition and handling the aftermath of “events”, it’s a bit different from the late, great Don Bradman. After belting a triple hundred, he’d hide in a room and listen to Chopin’s sonata No. 2 for up to four hours. He’d come down from the heavens of one of his magnificent performances with Chopin, another genius! Wouldn’t drink with the other team members.’

Cavalier looked around the bar again. ‘Look at her!’ He nodded towards a tall, well-dressed African-American woman. ‘Looks like one of New York’s finest!’

‘I don’t know how you can do anything,’ Haut said. ‘After the events at my Hobart home, I was a nervous wreck for months. I still have nightmares. Now …’

‘A double malt scotch, the only way out.’

‘What about tomorrow’s headache?’

‘A hangover? Sure. But guilt, conscience, fear, remorse, depression—never. Life is too short.’

‘The devils you’ve liquidated have deserved their fate.’