（外文电子版资料）The Ledge.docVIP

THE LEDGE Go on, Cressner said again. Look in the bag. We were in his penthouse apartment, forty-three stories up. The carpet was deep-cut pile, burnt orange. In the middle, between the Basque sling chair where Cressner sat and the genuine leather couch where no one at all sat, there was a brown shopping bag. If its a payoff, forget it, I said. I love her. Its money, but its not a payoff. Go on. Look. Re was smoking a Turkish cigarette in an onyx holder. The air-circulation system allowed me just a dry whiff of the tobacco and then whipped it away. He was wearing a silk dressing gown on which a dragon was embroidered. His eyes were calm and intelligent behind his glasses. He looked just like what he was: an A-number-one, 500 carat, dyed-in-the-wool son of a bitch. I loved his wife, and she loved me. I had expected him to make trouble, and I knew this was it, but I just wasnt sure what brand it was. I went to the shopping bag and tipped it over. Banded bundles of currency tumbled out on the rug. All twenties. I picked one of the bundles up and counted. Ten bills to a bundle. There were a lot of bundles. Twenty thousand dollars, he said, and puffed on his cigarette. I stood up. Okay. Its for you. I dont want it. My wife comes with it. I didnt say anything. Marcia had warned me how, it would be. Hes like a cat, she had said. An old tom full of meanness. Hell try to make you a mouse. So youre a tennis pro, he said. I dont believe Ive ever actually seen one before. You mean your detectives didnt get any pictures? Oh, yes. He waved the cigarette holder negligently. Even a motion picture of the two of you in that Bayside Motel. A camera was behind the mirror. But pictures are hardly the same, are they? If you say so. Hell keep changing tacks, Marcia had said. Its the way he puts people on the defensive. Pretty soon hell have you hitting out at where you think hes going to be, and hell get you someplace else. Say as little as possible, Stan. And remember that I love you. I