"That's a lie!" Ween roared. "You heard what Cooper just now admitted. That's a dirty, unethical lie, Lennox!" "And you're stuck with it. Take us into court and see what happens." "I don't want to go into court!" Cooper looked around frantically. "You're right, Jake. All I want is out. Give him his piece of the hit. Give him the whole damned tune. I'm not cut out for this rat race. For God's sake, let me out before I turn into a twitch like Blinky." Lennox shut Cooper up with a wave of his hand. He scowled murderously at Ween. "Look what you're doing to him, you lousy leech. You sit on the sidelines waiting for someone to hit, and then you're right in there bloodsucking. Agents! The pimps of the business! This is my boy, understand? He worked for this. He sweated for it. He waited for it, and you're taking nothing from him. Now get the hell out of here and go shove yourself up your property." Ween left the wrapping room like a thundercloud. Lennox ignored him and stepped to Cooper's side. "You stood by me," he growled. "Now I'm standing by you. If you sign anything away.... If you give anything away.... If you so much as open your mouth, I'll kill you. Stop whining. D'you think this is another varsity show? You're doing business with professional cut-throats. Get the hell out there and face them." He pounded Cooper's slack shoulders with his fists, propelled him to the door and thrust him out. He motioned to Gabby to follow and walked behind Cooper, forcing him back into the crush. Lennox kept muttering: "Smile. Grin. Shove it down their throats. They hate your guts. They hate anybody who gets a break. Well, hate 'em back. Show 'em!" Lennox patrolled Cooper for a few minutes, showing his teeth in the icy, cutting smile called The Agency Knife. Then he took Gabby to the bar for a drink. He was sardonic, hostile, unyielding. Gabby had never seen him look more dangerous. Once again she was repelled by that frozen exterior that the business knew so well, but now she knew that this was only a part of Lennox. She took his arm with both hands and tugged gently. "You're frightening me," she whispered. "Stop looking like that, Jordan. You're like you were in the taxi Christmas night." "Thieves," Lennox growled. "Killers. Poison eaters! All of them. Trying to cut Sam's throat. Mine too. I won't let 'em. We'll hold on to our sanity. All of us. Won't we?" He glared at Gabby. "Yes, sir, Captain Hook, sir," she quavered. "And we'll give 'em nothing. Nothing! You hear me, Gabby Valentine?" "Yes, sir." "That's my girl. Now let's go find a place and talk." There were only three people in the smaller sound studio, clustered around a piano flanked by microphones on stands. A bass fiddle and two copper-bottomed kettle drums stood in a corner. Still raging, Lennox stalked in with Gabby and flashed The Agency Knife on the strangers. "I'd like a word in private with my mother," he said. "Would you mind? Thanks very much."