"Surprise," Jack said, "The best weapon there is. The outcome could have been very different if they'd been ready for me. But they saw a guy who was scared, frightened, helpless. Easy meat. The second guy even smiled when he saw how helpless I looked. But I had my moves planned—went for their knees and noses. Doesn't matter how big a guy is, he's not much trouble after you pop one of his knee ligaments, or ram his nasal bones back into his head. Those two got caught napping. That only works once, though. Have to think of something else if I run into them again."

"I have to ask you this," she said. Jack noticed her looking at her hands. "Those thumbnails. You keep them so much longer than the others. Can I ask you why?"

"You'd probably rather not know."

"I do. Really I do."

Jack took a breath. "Sometimes you get into spots where things don't clean up as neatly as they did tonight. Sometimes you wind up rolling in the dirt or on the floor and you're dodging head butts and bites and you've got to use every trick you know and every part of your body just to survive. And that's when it's good to have a sort of built-in weapon." He held up his long-nailed thumbs and wiggled them. "Nothing like a gouged eye to end a fight."

Alicia blanched and straightened in her chair. "Oh."

Warned you, Jack thought.

He tried to stare down the guy on the Sam Adams sign. That didn't work, so he made to move the conversation away from himself and into a more interesting area.

"This is the second time I've asked you this today," he said, "but things have changed since this morning: What's your next move?"

"I'm not sure."

"Snatching you off the street was a risky and dangerous move. It tells me they're getting desperate. And desperate people do crazy and stupid things. You might get hurt."

"I don't know if tonight had anything to do with desperation," she said slowly. "Thomas told me that they were going to win, that it's just a matter of time. I don't think he was bluffing."

"Maybe there's a clock running somewhere."

"Maybe. But I get the feeling that tonight had nothing to do with the legal battle. I heard something in Thomas's voice… when he said, 'If you ever, ever try to do harm to that house again'… he sounded as afraid as he was angry."

"So you think this is a direct response to your hiring Benny the Torch. Seems a little over the top."

"It does, doesn't it. But I think it really frightened him. The thought of that house going up in flames seems to have just about unhinged Thomas."

"And unhinged people are dangerous." Jack pounded his fist lightly on the table. "But what is it about that house that would unhinge him?"

Something inside him was screaming for answers.

"I didn't really care before," Alicia said, "but after tonight, I want to know. Help me find out."

Thought you'd never ask.

But he didn't want to appear too anxious. There was still the matter of his fee.

"Well…"

"Look." She leaned over the table, her expression intent, her voice low. "Thomas tried to frighten me off. I can't let him do that. Whatever's in that house has got to be valuable. Very valuable. I can't pay you cash, but you can have whatever we find."

"A contingency fee," he said, nodding slowly, as if he'd never considered it. "I usually operate on a cash basis, but since I'm already involved in this, I'll make an exception."

"Great!" She gave up one of her rare smiles.

"But I can't take it all. It's yours by right."

"I don't want it."

"I'll take twenty percent."

"Take it all."

How could he take it all? He wouldn't feel right. "You can toss your percentage in the river if you want, but we split or I'm out."

He finally backed her into limiting his take to a third, and they shook on it.

"When can you start?" she said.

"I've already started." He rose and threw a twenty on the table. "Let's take a ride."

10.

Jack didn't have to tell the cabbie to take it slow past the house. Thirty-eighth Street was barely crawling.

"Thar she blows," he said.

The security car with the two guards was still parked out front.

He noticed that Alicia didn't even glance out the window. She sat with her arms laced tightly across her chest.

"When do you figure you'll make your first search?" she whispered.

The cabdriver's English had seemed pretty shaky, and Jack doubted he could hear much on the other side of his Plexiglas partition, but whispering wasn't a bad idea.

"For what?"

"For whatever they think is so valuable."

"Which is…?"

"That's the zillion-dollar question."

"Exactly. I'm sure your brother has tossed the place but good behind those boarded-up windows. Obviously he didn't find it. So how am I supposed to find what he couldn't find when I don't even know what I'm looking for?"

She mulled that a moment. "Maybe it isn't something in the house—maybe it's the house itself."

"Very possible. But when it's time to search, it won't be just me, it'll be we."

"Oh, no. I'm not setting foot in that house ever again."

"Yes, you are. You grew up there. You know every nook and cranny of the place. Be crazy for me to stumble around in there alone when you could be my guide."

Alicia seemed to shrink inside her coat as she tightened her crisscrossed arms.

What happened to you? he wondered. What went on in that house that you won't even look at it?

He decided not to push her any further now.

"But search talk is a little premature now anyway," he said. "We need lots more information before we do anything like that."

She visibly relaxed. "Like what?"

"Like who's backing Thomas. Finding out what they're into may move us a long way toward figuring out what this is all about. You said this is a big expensive law firm?"

She nodded. "Hinchberger, Rainey and Guran. Leo—my dead lawyer—told me HRG is mainly into international business law. He was flabbergasted that they were handling a will dispute. Said it was like having F. Lee Bailey handle a traffic ticket. And I believe him. You should see their offices."

"You been there?"

She nodded. "Leo and I had a meeting with Thomas's lawyer in his office early on. It didn't go well."

"Where are they?"

"West Forty-fourth, just off Fifth."

Jack had an idea. "Then that's the place to start." He tapped on the cab's Plexiglas barrier. "West Forty-fourth."

"Nobody's going to be there now."

"I know. But I want to get a look at the place. And I want to start work on getting a list of their clients."

"You mean, besides Thomas?"

"I don't think your brother is a client—at least in the usual sense. It doesn't sound like you can approach—what did you call them?"

"Leo called them HRG. It's easier."

"Okay. HRG. They don't sound like the kind of firm that lets you pop in off the street with a will problem. So I'm willing to bet that one of their existing clients—an important one—told HRG to handle this 'minor matter' for them. We connect Thomas to one of those clients and we may answer some questions."

She shook her head. "So obvious. But how do we connect—?"

"I follow him. But that's all later. Right now, I need you to fill me in on some details."

"Like what?"

"Like how your father died."

"He was on Flight 27."

The words jolted Jack. "Flight 27? When you said he was killed in a plane crash, I thought you meant some little Piper Cub or Cessna. But Flight 27… jeez."

JAL Flight 27 from LA to Tokyo had crashed into the Pacific with no survivors, and not too many of the 247 bodies recovered either. The TV and papers had talked of nothing else for weeks. Still no clue as to why. It went down in one of the deepest parts of the Pacific. The black box was never found.