Chapter 32 Lawyer Snare
Fame Vainglory was tired of the little man the moment she saw him. Shooting through the doorway of her suite, Snare the lawyer made straight for a chair and settled his immaculate self and briefcase directly before her.
They began to exchange small talk.
“Pleasantry, pleasantry,” he said crisply.
Fame rolled aside the drawing board she had been sketching on and replied languidly, “Yes, pleasantry. Small joke. Health inquiry. Present business?”
“The same as before, Miss Vainglory,” he replied, opening his briefcase. “The recovery of Pride House for the City is quite a priority these days for Mr. Power. He’s kept its loss out of the newspapers so far, but the sooner the embarrassment is cleared up the better. You have been to see Mr. Pride by now, haven’t you?”
Fame sighed. “Mr. Snare, I am simply unimaginably busy with my new clothing line, plus a dozen other projects and two boyfriends. Now, I’ve told you that I’ve called him several times and that I’ll work him in when I can.”
“You have plenty of time next week,” said the lawyer.
“My vacation,” she said, explaining and refuting at once.
Mr. Snare fixed her with an eye like a shiny pen tip. “Let me remind you that without Pride’s cooperation we have zero legal footing for regaining the house for the City. He has to be brought to testify that he was crazed and coerced when he signed with Heaven.”
“Who cares?” she said. “What’s one house to Power? I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
“It is—how shall I put it—a very personal matter between Mr. Power and Ambassador Grace. Mr. Power does not like to lose even a single point in any game. I warn you, miss, not to put off Mr. Power on this any longer. You’ve not returned his calls. Tsk, tsk, that is living dangerously. He’s hot, he’s in a purple fury. It’s time to show loyalty if you don’t want to be dealt with.”
The corners of Fame’s beautiful lips twitched.
Snare drew out a paper and handed it to her. Stationery with the letterhead of Snare, Pitfall, Trial, and Temptation, Attorneys at Law; the paper outlined a plan to recover Pride House for the City.
“As you can see, we’ve been in touch with Pride’s parents, who are cutting short their tour to return and take charge of the house once it’s recovered. And you’ll see that we’re getting plenty of inside information from a Miss Worry who is boarding at the house. She’ll also try to persuade Pride to cooperate with us. Then we have the help of his old friends and his pastor. But you are the main operant in the plan.”
“Mr. Snare,” she objected, “I can do with him as I please. If you want him to testify that he was coerced, just let me call him again.”
“I think not,” he answered abruptly. “You see, he’s joined that foreign cult, and that changes the picture. He’s still infatuated with you, but he no longer intends to join you at your level of society. According to our sources, he actually wants to bring you down to theirs, if you can imagine. So you must pretend to take him seriously for now, until he accepts a—”
“You mean I’m expected to give credit to that Heaven cult?”
Snare leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Keep in mind that Mr. Power himself acknowledges God and goes to church. He and old Mammon built every church in this city, and it’s power and money that keep them going. So we don’t need to be afraid of a certain amount of talk about Heaven. For our part, the City has always been willing to meet Heaven half way. True, the so-called Heavenly Embassy we’ve never recognized, since they won’t recognize us or deal with us as equals. They won’t play ball with us, so it’s their loss. But we’ve made any number of contracts and deals with Heaven by way of its real representatives—men such as Pastor Hypocrisy and Bishop Ooze.”
“Now,” he continued, “once a man has developed a taste for fanatical religion, he won’t be lured away from it by the usual methods; no, not even by your beautiful self, Miss Vainglory—no deprecation of your charms, of course. No, the old lures will not work anymore unless—unless laced with the scent of religion, unless veneered with the look of religion. Hence, as of today, you are a religious girl and will present yourself to him as such.”
Fame smiled incredulously.
“We’ll be sending over Pastor Hypocrisy to teach you how to play your part. Before long, Mr. Pride will not be able to tell the difference between your brand of religion and the brand he has so recently adopted; except for this: your brand will promise of riches and success that his cannot, and you yourself will be dangled as a prize before him; a role, I understand, to which you are accustomed.”
He snapped the briefcase shut.
“The result of course is inevitable. While seeming to win you to his God, he’ll actually be won to yours, to ours.”
“And who’s that?” asked Fame.
“Haven’t you heard, miss? God has taken up business in this city and is doing mighty well. He’s tough and he’s cynical and pulls strings with the best of them.”
“Oh, Mr. Power.”
“Um, right enough. But Power is just a representative, you know; little more than the brass knuckles on the hand that forms the fist. You won’t see our god’s face in the newspapers for some time to come. I’m leaving you these papers to study. Good day, miss.”