House of Cards Ch. 09

Eddie's face showed a mixture of annoyance and alarm. He looked young for 29, and not at all prepossessing. He was handsome, I suppose, in a brooding kind of way, but he was quite a bit smaller and slighter than I.

His hand had been stretched across the table towards Marianne, and I quickly grabbed his forearm with my right hand and held it tightly. He attempted to pull it back, but I steadily squeezed harder and harder, until he was in pain. "Just leave your hand there, Eddie. That's a good boy." I spoke calmly, keeping my face expressionless.

He didn't know whether to try defiance or deference, so he went for the first, though he couldn't quite bring it off. "So it's the 'loving husband', huh?" he sneered, though I could see fear in his eyes. "Come along to join the party?"

I didn't reply, just looked directly into his eyes without moving. He tried to stare back, but after a minute he couldn't face me and he moved his eyes nervously to look around the bar. I was still holding his arm, still administering a bit of pain. Then I spoke, always keeping my voice calm.

"Eddie, in the past Marianne wanted to spend time with you. That was her decision. But now she doesn't, and you haven't gotten the message. So now it's my business."

"You know what I do for a living, right, Eddie? I'm an engineer. In my work I have a lot of contact with fellows in the construction business. Gentlemen with names like Dino and Vinnie. Are you following me?"

"I had a conversation with a couple of these gentlemen. I asked them how they would handle the problem of a loverboy who was bothering one of their wives, and who wasn't getting the message that he wasn't wanted any more."

Eddie was listening now, not moving a muscle. Keeping my right hand on his arm, I reached into my pocket with my left hand and pulled out a 9-inch serrated knife, which I placed on the table between us.

"My friends agreed right away on how they'd handle the loverboy—they'd cut his cock and balls off, then stuff them in his mouth. Maybe sew up the mouth, too. The only thing they disagreed on was the kind of knife to use. But three out of four of them said that this serrated knife would do a nice job. Messy, but effective."

Eddie wasn't even pretending not to listen. He had gone quite pale, and there was a bit of sweat on his upper lip.

"My friends also told me that they'd be glad to help with my 'situation', if I decided any help was needed. I told them I'd let them know."

I waited another minute, still looking at Eddie, then I finished. "Eddie, you're done calling Marianne. You're done seeing Marianne, talking to Marianne, thinking about Marianne. You're done being within 100 yards of Marianne. If you and she are ever in the same place, you're going to be turning and walking rapidly in the opposite direction."

"You got that, right Eddie?" He nodded, not taking his eyes off me.

"I'd like to hear you say it, Eddie." Without hesitation he said, "Yeah. Yes. I got it."

I didn't speak again, just let go of his arm. Rubbing it with his other hand, he quickly got to his feet, not looking at me or the knife, and headed out of the bar. He passed Marianne where she sat without looking at her either.

I put the knife in my pocket and walked back over to Marianne. "Shall we get some lunch?" I asked. She looked at me and nodded, smiling. Her face wore a strange expression—some kind of mixture of embarrassment, relief, pleasure, and pride.

Lunch was relaxed and pleasant. I had one more bit of business to discuss, and I brought it up right away. "Marianne, we need to talk about Susan. And Jack."

"I was thinking about that, Tom, and I wanted to tell you as well. Susan and Jack left Cleveland together in the spring; I think they're living in Tennessee now. I wasn't really friends with her after that night ... they set me up to see Eddie again. I mean, I'm to blame for what I did, but ... let's just say I don't think she had my best interests at heart. In any case, she's gone—they're both gone."