Seventh Enemy Read Free

modeled after military weapons. Your Uzi, your AK-47. Assault guns’ve got large magazines, but they’re not fully automatic.”
    “A lot of sporting guns are semiautomatic, aren’t they?”
    “Sure,” said Wally. “Shotguns, hunting rifles.
    “So what’s the difference?”
    “Functionally, the only difference is the size of the magazine. Except, of course, your assault gun looks —well, it looks —like a military weapon. And they’re pretty easy to modify into fully automatic.” Wally turned and smiled at me. “You’re not that bad at cross-examination, Brady, you know that?”
    “I was just interested,” I said. “Sorry.”
    “No, don’t be. Talking about it helps me clarify it.”
    “So this is a consultation.”
    He turned to me and smiled. “You gonna put me on the clock?”
    “I guess I should. Julie would be pleased. Want another drink?”
    He shook his head. “Mind if I use your phone?”
    “You don’t have to ask.” I flapped my hand at the wall phone in the kitchen. “Help yourself.”
    He went into the kitchen, took the phone off the hook, and sat at the table. He pecked out a number from memory, I turned my back to him, sipped my drink, and watched the clouds slide across the sky. I wasn’t trying to listen, but I couldn’t help hearing.
    “Hey; it’s me,” said Willy into the phone. “Here, in Boston… With my lawyer… Just one night, then to the cabin. Gonna be able to make it? …Yeah, good. Terrific. I’ll meet you at your place tomorrow, then…” His voice softened. “Yeah, me, too. Um, how’s? …Oh, shit. Well, look. Keep all the doors locked and don’t be afraid to call the cops… I know, but you should still do it… Christ, babe, don’t do that. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? It’ll wait” he chuckled softly. “Right. You, too. Bye.”
    I heard him hang up. He came into the living room and slumped onto the sofa. I went over and took the chair across from him. We both put our feet up on the newspapers that were piled on the coffee table.
    “That’s a friend of mine,” he said. “She’s having problems with her husband.”
    “You fooling around with married ladies?”
    “She’s in the middle of a messy divorce. The guy’s not handling it with much class.”
    “You didn’t answer my question.”
    “I’m not fooling around with her,” he said. “I’m serious about her.”
    “Sounds like a good situation to stay out of.”
    “My lawyer’s advice?”
    “Your friend’s advice.”
    He shrugged. “You can’t always pick ’em. You’d like Diana. She and I are gonna spend the week at the cabin. Hey why don’t you join us?”
    “Sure,” I said. “Just what you want. A threesome.”
    “No, really,” he said. “We’ve got a spare bedroom. Diana would love it. So would I.”
    I shook my head. “I can’t spare a week.”
    “A few days, at least. How about it? The Deerfield should be prime.”
    “Boy,” I said, “I haven’t had any trout fishing to speak of all spring. I could maybe take Thursday and Friday.”
    “Done!” said Wally.
    “I gotta check with Julie.”
    “Assert yourself.”
    “It’s not easy with Julie. But I’ll try.”
    We sipped our drinks, chatted aimlessly, then began to yawn. I pulled out the sofa for Wally; found a blanket and pillow for him, and got ready for bed. When I went back to the living room, he was sitting at the kitchen table reading through a stack of papers and making notes on a legal-sized yellow pad. A pair of rimless reading glasses roosted on the tip of his nose.
    “What’s that?” I said.
    “A copy of the bill I’m supposed to testify on tomorrow and some of the SAFE propaganda. I haven’t had a chance to look it over.”
    “You probably ought to before you talk about it,” I said. “Lawyer’s advice.”
    “And that,” said Wally, “is why I pay you those outrageous fees.”
    Whether it was the booze, or visions of Deerfield brown trout eating my dry flies, or just seeing Wally