Chapter 6

It was a quarter to five. Only fifteen more minutes until the office closed for the day.

Henry Ryan sat at his desk, his elbows propped on his desk- pad, his long slender fingers joined together in a steeple. He was thinking. Mulling over his problems and his triumphs.

The Evans deal had been a good one. He'd really put one over on those East Coast bastards. Ryan chuckled. It would take about another two weeks for them to discover just how badly they'd been taken.

And it was all legal. Henry Ryan never did anything illegal. In his estimation, only fools broke the law. There were so many good ways to fleece people legally. All he'd had to do was offer a little extra commission to their buyer...

The intercom buzzed. Ryan irritably punched down the call button.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Ryan," his secretary's voice came through, high and nasal. "There's a Mr. Hammer here, and a... a Miss De La Court. They don't have an appointment, but they'd like to see you."

Ryan frowned. He hated his secretary's voice. In fact, he hated her. She had been his wife's choice, a scrawny, book-nosed old battle-axe. He could tell from the slight disapproval in her voice before she had said "Miss De La Court," that Miss De La Court must be attractive.

"Did they say what they want to see me about?"

"They say it's about your daughter Susan."

Ryan frowned. Sue was one of his problems. He'd doted on her too much, he realized that. She was totally spoiled. But things had gone smoothly enough until she met that slippery bastard, Ben Jackson.

My God! The thought of having that oily fortune-hunter for a son-in-law! He had only agreed to the betrothal when Sue had shown unmistakable signs of being ready to run away and do it anyhow. He'd hoped, with the long wait before the marriage was to take place, that Sue would eventually come to her senses. But so far, she seemed as hopelessly in love with the punk as ever.

And there was this shameful situation with her staying over at his place. Oh, she said she was with her girlfriends, but Ryan knew better. He had had Sue and Ben followed once. They had spent the whole night at his place.

And this time she hadn't been home for three days. That was intolerable. Ryan was going to have to put his foot down. How had all this happened, anyhow? Sue had always been such a good, obedient daughter. She was just too damned pretty. How could such a beauty have come from that dried-up, sexless wife of his?

"Oh well... send them in, Miss Batterston." Might as well find out what the hell was happening.

Ryan's eyes widened as the two visitors came into his office. Miss De La Court was indeed attractive. Downright beautiful. Ryan felt his hormones begin to bubble a little. How long since he'd fucked a beautiful woman? Hell. How long since he'd fucked anybody at all?

Miss De La Court had sat down before Ryan paid any attention to Hammer. His shrewd little eyes wrinkled with instinctive caution.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Perhaps clear up a little matter concerning your daughter Sue."

"Where do you know Sue from, Mr. Hammer?"

Ryan asked, frowning.

"She... frequents my place of business," Hammer said smoothly.

"And where might that be?"

"It's a gambling casino. The Ace of Spades. You might have heard of it."

Ryan was speechless for a moment. "My daughter in a casino?" he spluttered. "She must have come in with that scoundrel, Ben Jackson."

"Originally," Hammer said. "But lately she's been coming in by herself."

Ryan had to struggle to get hold of himself. "I understand, Mr. Hammer," he finally said. "And I'm grateful for your concern. I'll see that she doesn't come in again." Hammer chuckled, looked down at his well-manicured nails. "I don't think you understand, Mr. Ryan. I don't mind Sue coming in at all. It's just that she's... well, got in over her head."

"What do you mean?" Ryan burst out, aghast.

Hammer reached into an inner coat pocket. He pulled out a stack of markers and tossed them onto Ryan's desk. "She's into me pretty deep. I wanted to find out from you if she's good for it."

Ryan stared at the markers. They were all signed by Sue. A quick calculation told him they added up to several thousand dollars.

"She's good for it," Ryan said, his lips set in a straight line. "But I'm against paying gambling debts. I imagine the legality of those IOU's could be challenged."

"But it would be awfully messy publicity, wouldn't it, Mr. Ryan?" Hammer asked quietly.

Despite Hammer's urbanity, Ryan knew the squeeze was being applied. If his investors ever got wind of this kind of scandal, half his operating capital would dry up.

"I'll write you a check," he said, reaching for his pen. Sue would pay. Oh, she would pay!

"While you have your checkbook out, I'd like to ask you if you collect art?"

"Art?" Ryan asked, puzzled.

"Yes... you know... pretty pictures.

"Oh, Frank, please... you don't have to do that!" Miss De La Court broke in.

"Shut the fuck up, Glenda!" Hammer snapped. "I'll ask for your opinion when I want it!"

"But Frank... he's already agreed to pay!"

"Shut up, cunt!" Hammer roared.

Glenda lapsed into a frightened silence. Ryan realized she had been looking very strained since the two of them had come in. Obviously she didn't like what Hammer was doing. Ryan immediately sensed an ally.

"What pictures are you talking about?" Ryan asked woodenly. He sensed disaster was about to crash down on his head.

For an answer, Hammer took a thick packet of color photographs out of a pocket and tossed them onto the desk. Then he sat back and calmly lit a cigarette. His eyes never left Ryan's face.

"Oh my God!"

Ryan's face paled. At first he had seen only naked figures, obviously making love. Then he recognized his daughter, Sue. She was lying under a man in all the pictures. In some, he was eating her cunt. In others his huge cock was skewering up into her blonde snatch. And from the expression on his daughter's lust- filled face, she was loving it!

Ryan found himself admiring Sue's naked body. God, she was a beautiful girl. Then he caught himself.

There was something familiar about the man in the pictures. Ryan looked more closely at his face. It was Hammer!

"You son-of-a-bitch!" he snarled, half rising. But the bigger, stronger Hammer pushed him back into his seat.

"Don't get out of control," the big man said. "You piss me off, I'll use those pictures. I have a friend who owns a skin magazine. He'd love to plaster your sweet little girl's tits and ass all over it. God, can she fuck!"

Ryan collapsed back into his chair. "What do you want?" he asked in a tired, defeated voice.

"I own a lot of a certain stock. I think it's underpriced," Hammer said. He then went on to outline an intricate plan for artificially forcing the price of the stock up. To do so, he needed a confederate with access to the major stock markets. Ryan.

"But that's illegal!" Ryan burst out.

"Of course. That's why there's so much money in it."

In the end, Ryan had no choice but to agree. After his visitors left, he felt sick and defeated. For a moment he admired the slickness of Hammer's plan. Almost wished he had the guts to try it himself.