I said, "Karen Lloyd, this is Joe Pike. Joe, this is Karen Lloyd. Joe is my partner. He owns the agency with me." Dark, and he still wore the gla.s.ses.

Pike said that he was pleased to meet her. Karen looked uneasy but she said h.e.l.lo. Another person invading her life.

The three of us went into the dining room. There was a 9 12 manila envelope on the table and a gla.s.s of white wine next to it. Most of the wine was gone. I said, "Where's Toby?"

"In his room, doing homework. I told him that people were coming and that I had work to do. He has his radio on. He won't be able to hear us."

"All right."

Karen picked up the 9 12, handed it to me, then picked up the winegla.s.s. "This is what I had in the computer."

"Okay."

Pike and I took off our jackets. When Pike took off his jacket, Karen leaned forward and made a little sound like ssss ssss.

Pike had two bright red arrows tattooed on the outside of each deltoid when he was in Vietnam. They pointed forward, and looked like the kind of red arrows you see on jet intakes or rocket nozzles or other dangerous things. With the jacket off and Pike in a sweatshirt with no sleeves, you could see the tattoos as clearly as if neon tubes had been laid beneath his skin. Karen looked away, not wanting him to catch her staring. People do that.

The orange and white cat came in from the hall, walked over to Pike, and rubbed against his ankles. Pike bent down and held his fingers out. The cat began to buzz. Karen said, "Do you like cats, Mr. Pike?"

Pike nodded.

She said, "His name is Tigger."

Pike nodded once, then stood and walked into the kitchen. Karen said, "Excuse me, the bathroom isn't that way."

Pike went through the door without looking back.

I said, "He isn't looking for the bath. He's looking for how someone might get into your home, or get out, and for where they might hide while they are within it."

She blinked at me.

"It's one of his more colorful habits."

The back door opened and Pike went outside. Karen went to the window and tried to look out at him, but she couldn't see out of the light and into the darkness. No one ever can. "What a strange man."

"Perhaps, but he is someone that you want on your side. He will never lie to you, and he will give you every piece of himself."

She looked doubtful. "Has he been your partner for a long time?"

"Yes. Since I bought the agency. We bought it together."

She looked out of the window again. Worried. "What if he scares Toby? What if one of the neighbors sees him and calls the police? Then we'll have to explain."

"No one will see him and no one will hear him. You ever see a ninja movie? That's Pike."

She squinted out the window some more, then came back to the table and picked up her gla.s.s. "How can he see at night while he's wearing those sungla.s.ses?"

I gave her a little shrug. There are some things even the great and wonderful Oz does not know.

In a little while Pike came back and we went through the records. Karen got more wine.

There were two hundred fourteen entries made into eight different First Chelam account numbers, all of which were immediately transferred into two accounts in Barbados. The records were spread over six pages of computer printout, showing single-s.p.a.ced rows of numbers without meaning, dates to the far left, account numbers to their right, amounts to the right of that, destination accounts on the far right, with dates going back four years and eleven months. I would read the sheets, then pa.s.s them to Pike, and he would read them. Karen watched us and drank the wine. It was sort of like reading a phone book with phone numbers but without names.

I said, "Let's start with the most recent deposit and you can walk us through every transaction."

"G.o.d, they're all the same."

"You told me that most of the deposits come through Harry, but some of them come through Charlie."

"That's right."

"Then they're not all the same. There are Harry deposits and there are Charlie deposits."

She nodded and said, "All right. What are you looking for?"

"I don't know. All we can do is dig into what we have and see if something presents itself."

"Oh."

"Most of the time, in what we do, there are no clear or ready avenues. Detectives look for clues, and clues tell you what's going on and what to do about it. Do you see?"

"Of course." She didn't look convinced. I think she was trying to relate it to banking.

"I'll need a pad and a pencil."

She got up and went down the little hall and came back with a yellow legal pad and a Paper Mate Sharpwriter pencil. She also got more wine. She seemed tired, but I didn't think it was just the booze. Her hip brushed the jamb when she came back through the door. I said, "Let's start with the transaction I saw in Brunly. Tell us how it was arranged and who arranged it, and how you were told to do what you did and as much as you know about where the money came from and where the money went. Don't leave anything out Things that you take for granted we don't know anything about. We'll do that one, and then we'll walk through every transaction for as far back as you can remember."

She nodded gamely, and we began.

We went through as much of each transaction as she could remember, starting with the latest and working backward. She remembered more than she thought she would because a lot of what had happened was repet.i.tious. Most of the answers were the same. Charlie's secretary at the meat plant would set the meetings just as she would for Charlie and any other business a.s.sociate. At the meetings, Charlie would tell Karen which of the eight First Chelam accounts the money should go into and into which of the two Barbados accounts it should be transferred. There were no receipts given and no statements mailed and nothing to prove that someone named Charlie DeLuca was either putting cash into the First Chelam Bank or moving money from one account to another. Karen a.s.sumed that someone in Barbados checked to make sure that the right amount of money was being fed into the accounts, but she wasn't sure.

Somewhere in the middle of it, Toby came into the hall and looked at us with big eyes. "Mom?"

I said, "Hi, Tobe." Mr. Bright and Cheery.

Karen put down her wine and gave him the Barbara Billingsley smile and went over to him. "Hey, pal, you get the homework done?" She'd had three or four gla.s.ses of wine by then, but she was doing okay.

"Unh-hunh."

"You know Mr. Cole? And this is Mr. Pike, his a.s.sociate."

Toby smiled uneasily, knowing that something wasn't right, that his mom didn't get sauced and have late-night meetings with guys sporting tattoos and sungla.s.ses to talk over wrap-around financing and short-term mortgage envelopes. He looked nervous. "You okay?"

She ran a hand through his hair and looked sad. "Sport, it's been a h.e.l.luva day. Why don't you get ready for bed?"

He glanced at Pike and me, then he gave his mom a kiss and went back down the hall. Karen watched him go and then she turned and trudged back to the table and Barbara Billingsley was gone. Karen Lloyd's face was older.

I said, "You want to knock off until tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No. Let's get this done."

Two hours and eleven minutes later we had filled the legal pad with two columns. HARRY HARRY had been written above one column and had been written above one column and CHARLIE CHARLIE had been written above the other, with deposit dates on the left of the columns and amounts in the middle and destination accounts on the right. There were seven different account numbers under the had been written above the other, with deposit dates on the left of the columns and amounts in the middle and destination accounts on the right. There were seven different account numbers under the HARRY HARRY column, but only one account number under the column, but only one account number under the CHARLIE CHARLIE column. All of the column. All of the HARRY HARRY accounts were transferred to the same Barbados destination. The accounts were transferred to the same Barbados destination. The CHARLIE CHARLIE account went to the other Barbados location. There were one hundred eighty-one entries under the account went to the other Barbados location. There were one hundred eighty-one entries under the HARRY HARRY account and thirty-three entries under the account and thirty-three entries under the CHARLIE CHARLIE, with all of the HARRY HARRY deposits coming every Thursday, as regular as the sunset. The deposits coming every Thursday, as regular as the sunset. The HARRY HARRY deposits were from $107,000 to $628,000, and they were spread more or less equally among the seven accounts. The deposits were from $107,000 to $628,000, and they were spread more or less equally among the seven accounts. The CHARLIE CHARLIE deposits were different. They started about twenty-eight months ago, and sometimes they would be made twice in one week and other times there would be eight or nine weeks between them. Irregular. The first couple of years the deposits were relatively small, with nothing over $9,800. A little less than five months ago the deposits went from four figures to five, with a high of $68,000. All of the deposits since then had been large, but still much smaller than any of the deposits were different. They started about twenty-eight months ago, and sometimes they would be made twice in one week and other times there would be eight or nine weeks between them. Irregular. The first couple of years the deposits were relatively small, with nothing over $9,800. A little less than five months ago the deposits went from four figures to five, with a high of $68,000. All of the deposits since then had been large, but still much smaller than any of the HARRY HARRY deposits. deposits.

We stared at our numbers and our chart, and Pike said, "You see it?"

Karen said, "What?"

I turned the yellow pad around so it would be easier for her. "Harry brings money, and Charlie brings money, but only Charlie tells you where to put the money."

She nodded. "Yes."

"Look at it. Every time Harry brings money, it goes into one of seven accounts, but it never goes in the eighth. Every time Charlie brings money, it goes in the eighth and never into any of the other seven."

She frowned and brought the pad closer. The frown made her look more strained, but now there was maybe a little hope. "I've never thought about it, but I guess that's right. Do you think this means something?"

I made a little shrug. "I don't know. I'm looking at things in a certain way and they're adding up, but maybe they add up in other ways, too. Maybe the Harry accounts are DeLuca family accounts, and the Charlie account is a personal account. Maybe the money Charlie gives you is the piece that Sal cuts for him, and maybe it's bigger than the piece Sal cuts for the other capos capos, so Charlie and Sal don't want anyone else to know to keep peace in the family."

Pike grunted. "Or maybe not. Maybe it means something that we can use."

Karen looked from me to Pike and then back to me. The hope you could see in her faded. She said, "It seems iffy."

"It is iffy. If you want certainty, go to the cops. There's witness protection."

Her face set, then she got up and went to the hearth. The cat followed her with his eyes. "We've been through that."

"It's still an option."

"No. It is not. It is not an option for me." Her frown deepened and she stared at the mantel. The pictures of her and Toby were there. She chewed her upper lip, then looked back at me. "Charlie's secretary called back this evening. She said I'm supposed to meet Charlie tomorrow. I told her no. I said that I'm not going to do it." That's why the drinking.

Pike said, "Bad move."

Her nostrils tightened and she looked at him. "What do you know?"

I said, "He's right. Charlie's already p.i.s.sed, and we shouldn't make it worse. Pike and I will be there, and we won't let him hurt you."

She pulled herself erect and stepped away from the hearth and gave me the sort of eyes she must've given herself ten years ago when she'd decided to change her life. Hard, focused, don't-get-in-my-way eyes. "No. It's not about being scared. It's about not wanting it in my life anymore. I've got Peter coming back. I've got you in my home. I'm not going to pick up his money. I'm not going to take any more deposits from Harry. I've made up my mind. Do you understand?"

I said, "Yes, ma'am."

Pike nodded once, and his mouth twitched.

Karen Lloyd said, "Will you need me for anything else tonight?"

"Nope," I said. "I think that about covers it."

She went to the front door and opened it. The cat slipped out and was gone. She said, "I appreciate what you've done, and I don't mean to be abrupt, but it's late and I'm tired. If you need to speak with me tomorrow, you can call me at the bank."

"Sure."

"Good night."

She closed the door before we were off the porch.

Pike said, "Tough lady."

"Unh-hunh."

"Maybe too tough. Like she's got something to prove."

I nodded.

Outside, the night air was crisp and chill and sparkling in its clarity, smelling strongly of oak and elm. Orion hung sideways in the southern sky, and a three-quarter moon hung in the east. We walked out onto the lawn and stood by the Taurus and watched Karen Lloyd's house. One by one, the lights went out and the house grew dark. With every light that died, the night grew closer.

I said, "A long time ago, she made the choice to be the way she is. She earned the job and the house and the position within the community. She rose above the bad thing in her life and has tried to get it out of her life and is trying again. I think she made gutsy choices. Be a shame if she had to regret them."

Pike moved in the dark, and the orange and white cat came from beneath the car and rubbed against him. Pike bent and picked up the cat and held him close. "You're right when you say that Charlie's already p.i.s.sed. She doesn't show when he expects her, he might drive around to find out why. He might try to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Think you could stay close to her, keep him from doing that?"

Pike's mouth twitched in the moonlight. "Unh-hunh."

I nodded, and Pike put down Karen Lloyd's cat and we got into the Taurus. The final light went out in Karen Lloyd's house, and all was darkness.

Nineteen.

Roland George called at 7:32 the next morning and said, "NYPD owns a guy named Walter Lee Balcom. Busted him seven weeks ago on two counts of murder and one count kidnapping and about two dozen ancillary counts. Most of them s.m.u.t and s.e.x crimes."

"Do the DeLucas run p.o.r.no?"

"No. That's the DeTillio family. But Walter's not mob. He's just been around for a long time and knows people who know people who know people. He's been singing up a storm to try to cut a deal, and Charlie DeLuca's name has come up a few times."

"Can I talk with him?"

"Ten o'clock at the Hall of Justice, downstairs, room B28. I'll meet you there."

"Right."

Rollie hung up.

At a quarter before ten I pulled into the parking garage next door to the Criminal Courts Building on Centre, just north of Foley Square in Chinatown, then walked across and down to subbas.e.m.e.nt B. A fat cop sitting behind a narrow table asked my business. I told him I was looking for Roland George in room B28. The fat cop looked through a little box, took out a pa.s.s with my name on it, and jerked a thumb to the right. "That way."

Subbas.e.m.e.nt B of the Criminal Courts Building looked like a breeding ground for cops with green cement walls and tile floors that were maybe a thousand years old and the faraway smells of disinfectant and urine. Cops of both s.e.xes moved through the halls, uncomfortable in spotless, starched uniforms, called in by prosecutors to rehea.r.s.e before appearing in court. Defense attorneys on their way into or out of interview rooms glared at the cops with angry eyes that were looking to cut a deal for clients everyone knew were guilty. The lawyers looked like chronic gamblers. The cops looked like drunks.