Or Broker.

“Swell,” I said. “Pretty nice hotel, considering the neighborhood.”

A seedy warehouse district was nearby.

The Broker shrugged. “The traffic flow is ideal, and with the bridge right here? People who come to the Cities with business to do at the Arsenal find it most convenient.”

The Rock Island Arsenal was a major employer in the Quad Cities. I figured I was right-the Broker had a piece of this place, otherwise why the knee-jerk puff job?

I glanced around at the red brocade wallpaper; you could see people moving out in the kitchen through windows in steel doors. “This is a little public, isn’t it? Not exactly where I expected us to meet.”

He waved a hand heavy with gold and diamonds in Pope-like benediction. “There’ll be no dark alleys, Quarry. We’re business associates. No need for paranoia, discretion suffices. I have enough clout around here that we can meet in comfort and relative seclusion without having to resort to ridiculously surreptitious measures.”

“Yeah, that would suck.”

He was studying me. His smile went up and his white mustache drooped down. A hundred years ago, this was a man who’d have bought and sold slaves. But I wasn’t perfect, either.

He said, “Judging by your confident demeanor, I would say you’ve had no second thoughts about the direction of our business relationship.”

“I spent a bunch of the money,” I said. I worked the opener on one of the Cokes and it made a pop. I could say it sounded like a gunshot, for dramatic effect, but it didn’t, really. “So I’m in. There’s a job?”

“A first job,” he said, and he chuckled, as if he were about to tell his twelve-year-old son about the birds and the bees. “And the first job is of course the most important.”

“Really? I’d think the final job.”

His brow furrowed. “And I do wish, right out of the gate like this, that I had something… simple for you. Something straightforward and not at all complex. Although I admit seeing how you handle a challenge will be instructive all around.”