ARNOLD MARKS STARED at me silently. Then he turned his head quickly toward Gary Trilling to see if I was
telling the truth. When Gary’s face betrayed nothing, I saw the other man working hard to regain his composure.
I leaned against his Humvee to make myself look unconcerned and casual. He k ept standing as tall as he could to
seem imposing. I’m not sure either of us carried it off very well.
Marks took a moment, then calmly said, “And what skill or knowledge base do you bring to their business?”
“Time and honesty. I’m considering retiring, and this seems like a nice place to live. Gary could use an extra person
around the lot, especially after yesterday’s tragedy. And clearly I’m good with people.” I gave my best
customer-service fake smile.
Marks didn’t find that as amusing as I had intended. He spoke carefully, like he was trying to ke ep his temper in
check. “What sort of job are you retiring from?”
“NYPD homicide detective.” It was fun to say it like that and even more fun to see Arnold Marks’s reaction.
He actually struggled for words for a moment. Then he nodded and said, “You must work with Rob.”
“I do.”
“I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of criminal, then. You came out here to make sure I didn’t try to steal the car
lot. Is that right?”
“Or burn it down.”
“Is that a direct allegation? Because, as I already said, I had nothing to do with the fire. In fact, I was eating and
drinking at a bar in Bozeman until
well after midnight. I can bring you plenty of witnesses to confirm that.”
“I bet you can.” I was doing everything I could to get into this guy’s head. It looked like it was working. I could see
the frustration on his face. I could hear it in the way he spoke.
“I’m trying to tell you I’m not a bad guy.”
I said, “In my experience, decent guys never have to tell me they’re not bad guys.”
Then he threw me a serious softball. He decided to start quoting philosophers.
“Plutarch said, ‘Learn to listen and you’ll profit from those who talk badly.’” Arnold looked satisfyingly smug after
throwing out the quote.
I smiled. “Actually, he said, ‘Know how to listen and you will profit even from those who talk badly.’” I enjoyed
seeing the confused look on Arnold Marks’s face. Even Rob Trilling looked a little surprised. I let out a chuckle.
“Finally my college degree comes in handy.” It clicked with Trilling, who knew that I’d majored in philosophy at
Manhattan College.
Arnold said, “I don’t understand the resistance I ke ep getting from you people. I’ve offered a very good price for
your lot. The resort I’m going to build will bring in a lot of tourists and make this town something special.
Why do you fight me at every turn?”
Now Gary Trilling spoke up. “Are you kidding me? The tourists only come in the summer and the roads can barely
hold them now. Why do you have to put a resort here? There’s nothing but wide-open spaces in Montana. You can’t
find one that no one’s using right now?”
Arnold didn’t answer.
After an awkward silence, I said, “Are there any other philosophers you can misquote on this subject?”
“All blood runs red.”
“What?”
All good humor had faded from Arnold Marks. “That’s the only philosophy I’m going to follow. All blood runs
red.”
I said, “Unless it’s a horseshoe crab.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Horseshoe crabs’ blood is blue, not red. So on the face of it, your philosophy is flawed.”
Arnold didn’t say a word. He fished a key fob out of his pocket and st epped toward the driver’s door of the Humvee.
I immediately straightened up and slipped away from the vehicle, so as not to get “accidentally” run over.
As the developer opened the door, I continued: “Google it. The blood of the horseshoe crab is blue. And while
you’re at it, maybe you want to google some more accurate philosophical quotations.”
I couldn’t hide my smile as Arnold Marks sped off the lot. I’d wanted to get into his head, and it looked like I’d just
signed a long-term lease.