“Got a gun, Tony,” Junior said.

“Let him keep it,” Tony said. “I just want to know he’s not wearing a wire.”

“Nope,” Junior said. “No wire.”

Tony gestured him out, and Junior closed the door behind him as he left.

“Gives us a little more room,” I said.

Tony smiled.

“He’s a big one,” Tony said.

“Sorry about Leonard,” I said.

“Uh-huh.”

“How’s your daughter,” I said.

“No worse,” Tony said.

“Still with…”

“No,” Tony said.

I nodded. Tony waited.

“We’ve known each other for a while,” I said.

“Uh-huh.”

Tony was beautifully dressed in a brown tweed jacket with a light-blue windowpane pattern. He had on a blue shirt and a brown silk tie.

“We’ve done each other some favors,” I said.

“Uh-huh,” Tony said. “’Specially the time you got me sent to jail.”

“We were much younger,” I said.

“Everyone was,” Tony said. “You helped me out with my kid, couple years ago.”

“I did,” I said.

“You know I’m not wired. Anything we say in here is off the record and doesn’t leave this office,” I said. “I’m not after you.”

Tony smiled faintly.

“Oh, good,” he said.

“You remember Rugar,” I said.

“He was with you in Marshport,” Tony said.

“As was Leonard,” I said.

Tony took out a slim cigar and snipped the end and lit it carefully with a silver desk lighter.

“Rugar was involved in a big-deal kidnapping on Tashtego Island a while back,” I said. “I was there.”

“Heard about that,” Tony said.

“So here’s a theory I’m working on,” I said. “I’ve been pecking away at the Tashtego thing since it went down. Somewhere along the way I got too close; I wish I knew where. And Rugar decides I have to go. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t want to do it himself, so he remembers Leonard from Marshport, and he asks Leonard to take care of it for him. Probably for a good price.”

Tony took the cigar from his mouth and looked at the lit end, seemed satisfied with the way it was burning, and put the cigar back in his mouth.

“But Leonard doesn’t do it himself,” I said. “Instead, he hires these guys from Far Goofystan, and they botch it.”

Tony let out a soft puff of smoke. I always like the smell of a good cigar.

“And Leonard panics,” I said. “He knows he shouldn’t have gone around you and he doesn’t know what else to do, so he tells you. You know that the trail will eventually lead back to you unless you take action. So you send Lamar down to see what these guys are likely to do, and get them out if he can. And you kill Leonard to underscore his fecklessness. Lamar can’t get these guys out, but he explains their language limitations, and that so far he’s the only one can talk with them. So you got a couple days. You use the time to make arrangements, and when Quirk and Epstein schedule an interview with their own interpreter, Lamar gives you the news and you have the two goons killed.”

“Fecklessness,” Tony said.

“It is also my theory that you got nothing to do with Tashtego except that Leonard dragged your name in.”

Tony blew some more cigar smoke around.

“Fecklessness,” he said. “I like it. Fecklessness.”

I waited.

“The theory makes sense,” Tony said after a while.

“Anything I might have missed,” I said.

“Nothing that matters,” Tony said.

“And I shouldn’t anticipate any problems from your, ah, organization,” I said.

“Not if you are discreet,” Tony said.

“Any idea where Leonard got these guys?”

“Might have been a guy he met up in Marshport,” Tony said. “There was some Afghani influence, wasn’t there?”

“Boots Podolak was in business with an Afghani warlord named Haji Haroon,” I said.

“It wouldn’t be feckless,” Tony said, “to think there could be a connection with Leonard.”

“Worth looking into?” I said.

“Dead end,” Tony said. “Somebody aced Leonard’s only contact up there.”

“Could that someone be Ty-Bop?” I said.

“The boy gets restless,” Tony said. “Trust me, there’s no loose ends up there.”

“So,” I said, “you got this buttoned up pretty tight.”

“I didn’t initiate this. I wouldn’t have permitted it. I don’t need any of this. It interferes with business.”

“So you closed it down.”

Tony nodded.

“Except for Lamar,” I said. “That’s how I got to you.”

“Lamar is my attorney,” Tony said.

“And,” I said, “being your attorney, he can invoke privilege whenever he needs to.”

“And will,” Tony said.

40

It was the way it was supposed to be in Boston in November. Gray and kind of chilly and a steady rain falling. Cars had their headlights on at ten in the morning when Hawk and I drove to Epstein’s office in Government Center.

“I be out here by the elevators,” Hawk said. “I not going in any FBI office.”

“J. Edgar’s ghost will be grateful,” I said.

“You think it wearing a dress?” Hawk said.

I went in. Epstein pushed a folder across the desk at me as I sat down.

“Been working with our forensic accounting folks,” Epstein said.

“The excitement never stops,” I said.

“You can learn a lot from accountants,” Epstein said.

“I have no doubt,” I said. “What’d you learn?”

“Van Meer and Bradshaw are both nearly broke,” Epstein said.

“Can Heidi take credit for that?”

“She costs both of them a sickening amount of money,” Epstein said. “Van Meer didn’t help himself much by being a drunk and slopping through most of his inheritance. Bradshaw pays a huge alimony, and he still maintains that private island. Essentially, since they’ve split, for her.”

“Tashtego,” I said.

“Yep. He was never as rich as Van Meer in the first place, though from the looks of what he spent, he tried to pretend he was. If it was to impress her, then she pretty well cleaned him out.”

“That college professor was lucky to escape with his life,” I said.

“Her first husband, yeah. Other than sort of a modest income from what investments he still has working for him,” Epstein said, “Bradshaw’s biggest asset is a very large life insurance policy with Heidi as beneficiary.”

“I were Bradshaw,” I said, “that might make me nervous. How about Van Meer.”

“He cashed his in for the surrender value,” Epstein said.

“So he’s not worth much to them dead or alive,” I said.

“The bank is moving to foreclose on his condo,” Epstein said.

“When you talk with him, he seems to have not a care in the world,” I said. “Except maybe he still misses Heidi.”

“He’s a drunk,” Epstein said. “Drunks are good at denial.”

“Have to be, I suppose,” I said. “How about the pre-nup and stuff.”

“Pre-nup, Lessard’s will,” Epstein said. “It’s all in there in more detail than you’d ever want. From the moment of marriage, Adelaide and Maurice became each other’s primary heir. And no matter what the family does later, each is entitled to the estate as it existed at the time of marriage.”

“And the Lessard lawyers bought that?” I said.

“Lawyers can only do what the client will agree to,” Epstein said. “Far as I can see, the Lessards thought they were marrying up. They probably thought the arrangement was in their favor.”

I picked up the folder. It was thick. I put it down.

“You suppose,” I said, “all this, helicopters, and shoot-outs, and assassination attempts, and kidnapping, and FBI and state cops, and Boston cops, and a lot of people dying… you suppose it’s all about fund-raising?”

Epstein shrugged.

“What is it usually about?” Epstein said. “Any crime?”

“Love or money,” I said.

“Or both,” Epstein said.