The Long Firm [antikvár]

'You know the song, don't you? "There's no business Hke show business".' Harry gets the Ethel Merman intonation just right as he heats up a poker in the gas burner. '"Like no business.'" Turning the iron slowly, sheathing it in blue flame. 'You know.^' 1 nod with enough emphasis to cause the chair I'm tied to to edge a little across the room. This only brings me closer to Harry. The gas roars softly. Blue flame looking cold. Poker looking hot. Glowing now, already brighter than the fire that feeds it. Getting red hot, white hot. 'Well what if there was a business like show business. Like show business. You know.^' Nod nod edge edge. 'There is, Terry. There is.' I can feel the heat of it on my cheek now as he points it at my face. I feel sick. 'You know what it is, don't you?' Harry asks in a hoarse whisper. 'It's what I do.' 'Harry,' I croak. 'Shh,' he insists. 'You'll have a chance to talk. Don't worry. You'll want to tell me the whole story. But first the show. I'm going to show you something.' My brain is throbbing with terror. I've got to think. Work out how all of this happened. Put it all together and find a way out. Think. Remember.