Revolver by Marcus Sedgwick

burning through Einar’s head like the acid had burned his hand.
    He turned his gaze briefly towards Wells, then Figges for a little longer.

    He took the chair he’d been sitting on, rested it against the wall, then sat down on it.
    â€œGentlemen,” he said. “I find this whole business fascinating. You don’t mind if I stay awhile. And watch.”

25
    The Hunter’s Response
    â€œW e have to close now.”
    Einar stood behind his desk and tried to show Wolff that he wouldn’t be intimidated.
    Wells was folding up his spectacles and sliding them into a metal tube that served as a case. Figges had already left, bored of waiting for any possible trouble brewing.
    All day Wolff had sat on the hard wooden chair till they’d almost forgotten he was there. Occasionally he would shift a leg or stretch, but otherwise, he sat, watching every move Einar made.
    They’d had a steady stream of customers, and Einar had been busy, not even stopping for lunch. Wolff took no lunch either, and at the end of the day, Einar was glad to see him stand up the first time he asked. Some of the men had had good gold, others almost worthless. Wolff had watched them all just the same, watched Einar test their gold, weigh their grains, count out cash.

    â€œFascinating,” he said. “Fascinating.”
    He left.
    But the next day, as Einar had been working at his table for a couple of hours, he suddenly sensed that he was being watched through the window. He looked up to see Wolff staring at him. Immediately, the bear-man moved off down the boardwalk, but he came again the next day, and the next, and the next.
    Finally, the day came when, five minutes before closing time, Wolff stood in front of Einar’s table once more.
    Wells and Figges were well used to the sight of Wolff now and made their way out of the office on the stroke of six with better things to do.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Einar said. “We’re closing.”
    But he already knew that wasn’t going to help him.
    â€œI’m not here to have my gold tested. I’m here to make you a proposition.”
    Einar packed away his things, pretending not to hear.
    â€œI said, I’m here to make you a proposition. A deal. An arrangement.”
    He came around to Einar’s side of the table and looked at the materials, the equipment. He picked up a bottle of aqua fortis and shushed it gently around inside the bottle.
    Einar grabbed it from him and set it back down softly on the table.

    â€œWhat is it you want to say?”
    Wolff smiled.
    â€œI want half.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œI want half. I want half of your gold. You’re a very clever man. You can understand that. Half.”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” Einar said. He continued to tidy things that didn’t need tidying, till Wolff lost his patience and slammed Einar against the wall.
    â€œDon’t play with me. You might have deceived those idiots you work with, but you don’t deceive me. I want half. I know how you do it. I want half, and in return, I keep my silence. Yes? A partnership. We are partners.”
    â€œListen. Wolff,” Einar said, wrestling free from Wolff’s grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you think I’m stealing gold, you can see that it’s just not possible. There’s Wells and Figges, and everything is measured, weighed, recorded. Mr. Salisbury checks it every week. You’ve seen it all. You’ve seen it for yourself.”
    Wolff turned for the door.
    â€œGood,” he said. “Yes, I’ve seen it all. And now we are partners, Andersson. You understand that. It’s a good arrangement, because we both get something from it. And I know I can trust you.”
    â€œYou do?” Einar blurted out, not thinking.
    â€œYes,” growled Wolff. “I do. Give my regards to your beautiful wife. And