are you?" said the now familiar voice,a hand outstretched above the table.
"Hello . . . Avery," replied Converse, staring,awkwardly shifting his attache case to grip the hand."It is Avery, isn't it? Avery Fowler. Taft, earlysixties.. You never came back For the senior year,and no one knew why; we all talked about it. Youwere a wrestler."
"Twice All New England," said the attorney,laughing, gesturing at the chair across from his own."Sit down and we'll catch up. I guess it's sort of asurprise for you. That's why I wanted us to meetbefore the conference this morning. " mean, it'd bea hell of a note for you to get up and scream"Impostort' when I walked in, wouldn't it?"
"I'm still not sure I won't." Converse sat down,attache case at his feet, studying his legal opponent."What's this Halliday routine? Why didn't you saysomething on the phone?"
"Oh, come on, what was I going to say? "By the way,old
sport, you used to know me as Tinkerbell Jones.'You never would have showed up."
"Is Fowler in jail somewhere?"
"He would have been if he hadn't blown hishead off," answered Halliday, not laughing.
"You're full of surprises. Are you a clone?"
"No, the son."
Converse paused. " Maybe I should apologize."
"No need to, you couldn't have known. It's whyI never came back for the senior year . . . and,goddamn it, I wanted that trophy. I would havebeen the only mat jock to win it three years in arow."
"I'm sorry. What happened . . . or is it privilegedinformation, counselor? I'll accept that."
"Not for you, counselor. Remember when youand I broke out to New Haven and picked up thosepigs at the bus station?"
"We said we were Yalies "
"And only got taken, never got laid."
"Our eyebrows were working overtime."
"Preppies," said Halliday. "They wrote a bookabout us. Are we really that emasculated?"
"Reduced in stature, but we'll come back. We'rethe last minority, so we'll end up getting sympathy....What happened, Avery?"
A waiter approached; the moment was broken.Both men ordered American coffee and croissants,no deviation from the accepted norm. The waiterfolded two red napkins into cones and placed onein front of each.
"What happened?" said Halliday quietly,rhetorically, after the waiter left. "The beautiful sonof a bitch who was my father embezzled fourhundred thousand from the Chase Manhattan whilehe was a trust officer, and when he was caught,went bang. Who was to know a respected, if trans-planted, commuter from Greenwich, Connecticut,had two women in the city, one on the Upper EastSide, the other on Bank Street? He was beautiful."
"He was busy. I still don't understand the Halliday."
After it happened the suicide was coveredup Mother raced back to San Francisco with avengeance. We were from California, you know . .. but then, why would you? With even morevengeance she married my stepfather, John
Halliday, and all traces of Fowler were assiduouslyremoved during the next few months."
"Even to your first name?"
"No, I was always "Press' back in San Francisco.We Californians come up with catchy names. Tab,Troy, Crotch the 1950's Beverly Hills syndrome. AtTaft, my student ID read "Avery Preston Fowler,' soyou all just started calling me Avery or that awful"Ave.' Being a transfer student, I never bothered tosay anything. When in Connecticut, follow the gospelaccording to Holden Caulfield."
"That's all well and good," said Converse, "butwhat happens when you run into someone like me?It's bound to happen."
"You'd be surprised how rarely. After all it wasa long time ago, and the people I grew up with inCaiifornia understood. Kids out there have theirnames changed according to matrimonial whim, andI was in the East for only a couple of years, just longenough for the fourth and fifth forms at school. Ididn't know anyone in Greenwich to speak of, and Iwas hardly part of the old Taft crowd."
"You had friends there. We were friends."
"I didn't have many. Let's face it, I was anoutsider and you weren't particular. I kept a prettylow profile."
"Not on the mats, you didn't."
Halliday laughed. "Not very many wrestlersbecome lawyers, something about mat burns on thebrain. Anyway, to answer your question, only maybefive or six times over the past ten years has anyonesaid to me, "Hey, aren't you so-and-so and notwhatever you said your name was?' when somebodydid, I told them the truth. "My mother remarriedwhen I was sixteen.' "
The coffee and croissants arrived. Joel broke hispastry in half. "And you thought I'd ask the questionat the wrong time, specifically when I saw you at theconference. Is that it?"
"Professional courtesy. I didn't want you dwellingon it or me when you should be thinking aboutyour client. After all, we tried to lose our virginitytogether that night in