During the past year, Alex had learned very little about Ivan. He didn’t know what his day job was, other than that he ran a small import and export business on the side. Despite this, Ivan was fast looking like the only prospect of keeping his agreement with Mr. Wolfe.
Alex slowly circled his name, and decided that as in chess, the best form of defense was attack. He would raise the subject of a loan during their lunch break on Saturday.
“I want you to write an essay over the weekend,” said the lecturer, “on whether President Roosevelt’s first hundred days in office were the turning point…”
That wasn’t how Alex planned on spending his weekend.
* * *
“Let me try and understand your problem,” said Ivan in Russian, as a large pizza was placed in front of him. “You are currently renting a stall—”
“I have a five-year license.”
“For three hundred and twenty dollars a month, and you’re only making a small profit.”
“No
t enough to cover next month’s rent.”
“But you think the problem would be solved if only you were given enough time?”
“Especially if I could get my hands on a second stall.”
“Even though you can’t afford the one you already have?”
“That’s true, but if you and I were to become partners, I’m confident—”
“Forget it,” said Ivan, cutting him short. “If you were to rent a second stall, the only thing that would double would be your losses.”
Alex bowed his head and looked down at his untouched pizza.
“However,” said Ivan, after he’d picked up a second slice, “if it’s simply a cash flow problem, I might be able to help.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“Last week I had to sack one of my couriers, and I’m looking for a reliable replacement.”
“But that would mean I’d have to drop out of NYU. If I did that, my mother would disown me.”
“Perhaps you could have the best of both worlds,” said Ivan, “because I’d only need you two or three times a week, and then just for a couple of hours.”
“But there’s no way I could earn enough to cover—”
“As long as you’re always on call, I’d pay you a hundred dollars a week, which would leave you with a few dollars over.”
“What would you expect me to do in return?”
“Nothing too demanding. Don’t forget, I’m an immigrant, just like you,” said Ivan. “I may not have got off the last ship that docked, but I haven’t been here that long. However, I’ve managed to build up a small import and export business that’s doing fairly well, and I’m always on the lookout for good lieutenants.”
“I won’t have anything to do with drugs,” said Alex firmly. That would be the surest way back to the Soviet Union.
“And neither would I,” said Ivan. “Although I confess the business is not quite what the Jewish would call kosher, so perhaps it’s best you don’t know too much.”
“Are the goods stolen?”
“Not exactly, but from time to time a few cartons of cigarettes might fall off the back of a truck on its way out of the docks, or the occasional crate of whiskey might not appear on the manifest after being unloaded from a ship.”
“But I wouldn’t be willing—”