the resident Neanderthal turns out to be Walter Mitty after all） and Herb agreed。 Then； after a certain amount of patently artificial small talk； he asked me if I knew where he could get a gun。 Mystified…sometimes your ob'dt correspondent is amazingly slow in making the obvious connections； m'dear…I mentioned the sporting goods store five blocks from here； at Park and 32nd。
〃No；〃 he said impatiently。 〃I don't want a shotgun or anything like that。〃 Here he lowered his voice。 〃I want something I can carry around with me。〃
Roger nodded and said Herb had been into his office around two； feeling him out on the same subject。
〃What did you say？〃 I asked him。
〃I reminded him that the penalties for carrying concealed weapons without a permit in this state are damned severe；〃 Roger said。 〃At which point Herb drew himself up to his full height ＇which is； Ruth； about five…seven＇ and said； 'A man doesn't need a permit to protect himself； Roger。 '〃
〃And then？〃
〃Then he walked out。 And tried you。 Probably tried Bill Gelb as well。〃
〃Don't forget Riddley；〃 I said。
〃Ah； yes…and Riddley。〃
〃Who might just be able to help him。〃
Roger ordered another bourbon； and I was thinking how much older than his actual forty…five he is ing to look when he suddenly grinned that boyish； winning grin that so charmed you when you first met him at that cocktail party in June of '80…the one at Gahan and Nancy Wilson's place in Connecticut； do you remember？ 〃Have you seen Sandra Jackson's new toy？〃 he asked。 〃She's the one Herb should have gone to for black market munitions。〃 Roger actually laughed out loud； a sound I have heard from him very seldom in the last eight months or so。 Hearing it made me realize again； Ruth； how much I like and respect him…he could have been a really great editor somewhere…perhaps even in the Maxwell Perkins league。 It seems a shame that he's ended up piloting such a leaky craft as Zenith House。
〃She's got something called the Rainy Night Friend；〃 he said； still laughing。 〃It's silver…plated； and almost the size of a mortar shell。 Fucking thing fills her whole purse。 There's a flashlight set into the blunt end。 The tapered end emits a cloud of tear…gas when you press a button…only Sandra says that she spent an extra ten bucks to have the tear…gas canister replaced with Hi…Pro…Gas； which is a hopped…up version of Mace。 In the middle of this device； Johnny boy； is a pull…ring that sets off a high…decibel siren。 I did not ask for a demonstration。 They would have evacuated the building。〃
〃The way you describe it； it sounds as if she could use it as a dildo when there were no muggers around；〃 I said。 He went off into gales of half…hysterical laughter。 I joined him…it would have been impossible not to…but I was concerned for him； as well。 He's very tired and very close to the edge of his endurance； I think…the parent corporation's steadily eroding support for the house has really started to get to him。
I asked him if something like the Rainy Night Friend was legal。
〃I'm not a lawyer so I couldn't tell you for sure；〃 Roger said。 〃My impression is that a woman who uses a tear…gas pen on a potential mugger or rapist is in a gray area。 But Sandra's toy； loaded up with a Mace hybrid。 。 。 no； I don't think something like that can be kosher。〃
〃But she's got it； and she's carrying it；〃 I said。
〃Not only that； but she seems fairly calm about it all；〃 Roger agreed。 〃Funny…she was the one who was so scared when the General was sending his poison pen letters； and Herb hardly seemed aware any of it was going on。 。 。 at least until the bus driver got stabbed。 I think what freaked Sandra out before was that she'd never seen him。〃
〃Yes；〃 I said。 〃She even told me that once。〃
He paid the tab； waving away my offer to pay my half。 〃It's the revenge of the flower…people；〃 he said。 〃First Detweiller； the mad gardener from Central Falls； and then Hecksler； the mad gardener from Oak Cove。〃
That gave me what the British mystery writers like to call a nasty start…talk about not making obvious connections！ Roger； who is far from being anyone's fool； saw my expression and smiled。
〃Didn't think of that； did you？〃 he asked。 〃It's just a coincidence； of course； but I guess it was enough to set off a little paranoid chime in Herb Porter's head…I can't imagine him getting so fashed otherwise。 We could have the basis of a good Robert Ludlum novel here。 The Horticultural Somethingor…Other。 e on； let's get out of here。〃
〃Convergence；〃 I said as we hit the street。
〃Huh？〃 Roger looked like someone ing back from a million miles away。
〃The Horticultural Convergence；〃 I said。 〃The perfect Ludlum title。 Even the perfect Ludlum plot。 It turns out； see； that Detweiller and Hecksler are actually brothers…no； considering the ages； I guess father and son would be better…in the pay of the NKVD。 And…〃
〃I've got to catch my bus； John；〃 he said； not unkindly。 Well； I have my problems； dear Ruth （who knows better than you？）； but realizing when I'm being a bore has never been one of them （except when I'm drunk）。 I saw him down to the bus stop and headed home。
The last thing he said was that the next we heard of General Hecksler would probably be a report of his capture。 。 。 or his suicide。 And Herb Porter would be disappointed as well as relieved。
〃It isn't General Hecksler Herb and the rest of us have to be worried about；〃 he said…his little burst of good humor had left him and he looked slumped and small； standing there at the bus stop with his hands jammed into the pockets of his trenchcoat。 〃It's Harlow Enders and the rest of the accountants who are going to get us。 They'll stab us with their red pencils。 When I think about Enders； I almost wish I had Sandra Jackson's Rainy Night Friend。〃
No progress on my novel this week…looking back over this epistle I see why…all this narrative that should have gone into Maymonth tonight went ended up here instead。 But if I went on too long and in too much novelistic detail； don't chalk it all up to prolixity； my dear…over the last six months or so I have bee a genuine Lonely Guy。 Writing to you isn't as good as talking to you； and talking to you isn't as good as seeing you； and seeing you isn't as good as touching you and being with you （steam…steam！ pant…pant！）； but a person has to make do with what he has。 I know you're busy； studying hard； but going so long without talking to you has got me sorta crazy （and on top of Detweiller and Hecksler； more crazy I do not need to be）。 I love you； my dear。
Missing you； needing you；
John
March 9； 1981 Mr。 Herbert Porter Designated Jew Zenith House 490 Park Avenue New York； NY 10017
Dear Designated Jew；
Did you think I had forgotten you？ I bet you did。 Well； I didn't。 A man doesn't forget the thief who rejected his book after stealing all of the good parts。 And how you tried to discredit me。 I wonder how you will look with your penis in your ear。 Ha…ha。 （But not a joke）
I am ing for you； 〃big boy。〃
Major General Anthony R。 Hecksler （Ret。）
P。 S。 Roses are red。
Violets are blue。
I am ing to castrate。
A Designated Jew。
M。 G。 A。 R。 H。 （Ret。）
MAILGRAM FROM MR。 JOHN KENTON TO RUTH TANAKA
MS。 RUTH TANAKA 10411 CRESCENT BOULEVARD LOS ANGELES； CA 90024
MARCH 10； 1981
DEAR RUTH
THIS IS PROBABLY PRIMO STUPIDO BUT PARANOIA BEGETS PARANOIA AND I STILL CAN'T RAISE YOU。 FINALLY GOT PAST THAT BLANK…BLANK ANSWERING MACHINE THIS MORNING TO YOUR ROOMMATE WHO SAID SHE HADN'T SEEN YOU LAST TWO DAYS。 SHE SOUNDED FUNNY。 I HOPE ONLY STONED。 CALL ME SOONEST OR I'LL BE KNOCKING ON YOUR DOOR THIS WEEKEND。 LOVE YOU。
JOHN
March 10； 1981
Dear John；
I imagine…no； I know…you must be wondering why you haven't heard from me much over the last three weeks。 The reason is simple enough； I've been feeling guilty。 And the reason I am writing now instead of calling is that I am a coward。 Also I think； although you may not believe me when you read the rest of this； which is the hardest letter I've ever had to write； because I love you very much and want so much not to hurt you。 A