Raymond replaced the ice pack and closed his eyes. “The problems haven’t been about the business side. That’s all been going like clockwork. It’s these unexpected snafus, like Franconi and now Kevin Marshall.” Raymond was loath to explain about Cindy Carlson. In fact, he’d been trying to avoid even thinking about the girl himself.

“Why are you still worried about Franconi?” Darlene asked. “That problem has been taken care of.”

“Listen,” Raymond said, trying to be patient, “maybe it would be best if you go watch some TV and let me suffer in peace.”

“How about some toast or a little cereal?” Darlene asked.

“Leave me alone!” Raymond shouted. He’d sat up suddenly and was clutching his ice pack in his hand. His eyes were bulging and his face was flushed.

“Okay, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” Darlene pouted. As she was leaving the room, the phone rang. She looked back at Raymond. “Want me to get it?” she asked.

Raymond nodded and told her to take the call in the study. He also said that if the call was for him, she should be vague about where he was, since he wasn’t up to talking with anyone.

Darlene reversed her direction and disappeared into the study. Raymond breathed a sigh of relief and put the ice pack back on his head. Lying back, he tried to relax. He was just getting comfortable when Darlene returned.

“It’s the intercom, not the phone,” she said. “There’s a man downstairs who wants to see you. His name is Franco Ponti, and he said it was important. I told him that I’d see if you were here. What do you want me to say?”

Raymond sat back up with a new jolt of anxiety. For a moment, he couldn’t place the name, but he didn’t like the sound of it. Then it hit him. It was one of Vinnie Dominick’s men who’d accompanied the mobster to the apartment the previous morning.

“Well?” Darlene questioned.

Raymond swallowed loudly. “I’ll talk to him.” Raymond reached behind the couch and picked up the telephone extension. He tried to sound authoritative when he said hello.

“Howdy, Doc,” Franco said. “I was going to be disappointed if you hadn’t been at home.”

“I’m about to go to bed,” Raymond said. “It’s rather late for you to be calling.”

“My apologies for the hour,” Franco said. “But Angelo Facciolo and I have something we’d like to show you.”

“Why don’t we do this tomorrow?” Raymond said. “Say between nine and ten.”

“It can’t wait,” Franco said. “Come on, Doc! Don’t give us a hard time. It’s Vinnie Dominick’s express wish that you become intimately acquainted with our services.”

Raymond struggled to come up with an excuse to avoid going downstairs. But given his headache, nothing came to mind.

“Two minutes,” Franco said. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“I’m awfully tired,” Raymond said. “I’m afraid…”

“Hold on, Doc,” Franco said. “Listen, I have to insist you come down here or you’re going to be very sorry. I hope I’m making myself clear.”

“All right,” Raymond said, recognizing the inevitable. He was not naive enough to believe that Vinnie Dominick and his people made idle threats. “I’ll be right down.”

Raymond went to the hall closet and got his coat.

Darlene was amazed. “You’re going out?”

“It appears that I don’t have a lot of choice,” Raymond said. “I suppose I should be happy they’re not demanding to come inside.”

As Raymond descended in the elevator, he tried to calm himself, but it was difficult since his headache had only gotten worse. This unexpected, unwanted visit was just the kind of turn that was making his life miserable. He had no idea what these people wanted to show him, although he guessed it had something to do with how they were going to deal with Cindy Carlson.

“Good evening, Doc,” Franco said as Raymond appeared. “Sorry to trouble you.”

“Let’s just make this short,” Raymond said, sounding more confident than he felt.

“It will be short and sweet, trust me,” Franco said. “If you don’t mind.” He pointed up the street where the Ford sedan had been pulled to the curb next to a fire hydrant. Angelo was half-sitting, half-leaning against the trunk, smoking a cigarette.

Raymond followed Franco to the car. Angelo responded by straightening up and stepping to the side.

“We just want you to take a quick look in the trunk,” Franco said. He reached the car and keyed the luggage compartment. “Come right over here so you can see. The light’s not so good.”

Raymond stepped between the Ford and the car behind it, literally inches away from the trunk’s lid as Franco raised it.

In the next second, Raymond thought his heart had stopped. The instant he glimpsed the ghoulish sight of Cindy Carlson’s dead body crammed into the trunk, there was a flash of light.

Raymond staggered back. He felt sick with the image of the obese girl’s porcelain face imprinted in his brain and dizzy from the flash of light which he quickly realized was from a Polaroid camera.

Franco closed the trunk and wiped his hands. “How’d the picture come out?” he asked Angelo.

“Gotta wait a minute,” Angelo said. He was holding the edges of the photo as it was developing.

“Just a second longer,” Franco said to Raymond.

Raymond involuntarily moaned under his breath, while his eyes scanned the immediate area. He was terrified anybody else had seen the corpse.

“Looks good,” Angelo said. He handed the picture to Franco who agreed.

Franco reached out with the photo so Raymond could see it.

“I’d say that’s your best side,” Franco said.

Raymond swallowed. The picture accurately depicted his shocked terror as well as the awful image of the dead girl.

Franco pocketed the picture. “There, that’s it, Doc,” he said. “I told you we wouldn’t need a lot of your time.”

“Why did you do this?” Raymond croaked.

“It was Vinnie’s idea,” Franco said. “He thought it best to have a record of the favor he’d done for you just in case.”

“In case of what?” Raymond asked.

Franco spread his hands. “In case of whatever.”

Franco and Angelo got into the car. Raymond stepped up onto the sidewalk. He watched until the Ford had gone to the corner and disappeared.

“Good Lord!” Raymond murmured. He turned and headed back to his door on unsteady legs. Every time he solved one problem another emerged.

The shower had revived Jack. Since Laurie had not included any injunction about riding his bike this time, Jack decided to ride. He cruised south at a good clip. Given the bad experiences he’d had in the park the previous year, he stayed on Central Park West all the way to Columbus Circle.

From Columbus Circle, Jack shot across Fifty-ninth Street to Park Avenue. At that time of the evening, Park Avenue was a dream, and he took it all the way to Laurie’s street. He secured his bike with his collection of locks and went to Laurie’s door. Before ringing her bell, he took a moment to compose himself, determining how best to act and what to say.

Laurie met him at the door, with a wide grin on her face. Before he could even say a word, she threw her free arm around his neck to give him a hug. In her other hand, she was balancing a glass of wine.

“Uh-oh,” she said, stepping back. She eyed the wild state of his close-cropped hair. “I forgot about the bike issue. Don’t tell me you rode down here.”

Jack shrugged guiltily.

“Well, at least you made it,” Laurie said. She unzipped his leather jacket and peeled it off his back.

Jack could see Lou sitting on the sofa, with a grin that rivaled the Cheshire cat’s.

Laurie took Jack’s arm and pulled him into the living room. “Do you want the surprise first or do you want to eat first?” she asked.

“Let’s have the surprise,” Jack said.

“Good,” Lou said. He bounded off the couch and went to the TV.

Laurie guided Jack to the spot Lou had just vacated. “Do you want a glass of wine?”