then we'd become different, which is the last thing we want."
"I'd get a nose job."
"But your nose is perfect."
"Abby's nose is perfect, but what about Thelma's? We'd have to get it fixed, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I suppose." He was immediately tired of the humor and became quiet. Abby stepped in front of him, and he draped his arms over her shoulders. They watched a tug quietly push a hundred barges under the bridge. An occasional cloud dimmed the moonlight, and the cool winds from the west rose intermittently, then dissipated.
"Do you believe Tarrance?" Abby asked.
"In what way?"
"Let's suppose you do nothing. Do you believe one day they'll eventually infiltrate?"
"I'm afraid not to believe."
"So we take the money and run?"
"It's easier for me to take the money and run, Abby. I have nothing to leave behind. For you, it's different. You'll never see your family again."
"Where would we go?"
"I do not know. But I wouldn't want to stay in this country. The feds cannot be trusted entirely. I'll feel safer in another country, but I won't tell Tarrance."
"What's the next step?"
"We cut a deal, then quickly go about the job of gathering enough information to sink the ship. I have no idea what they want, but I can find it for them. When Tarrance has enough, we disappear. We take our money, get our nose jobs and disappear."
"How much money?"
"More than a million. They're playing games with the money. It's all negotiable."
"How much will we get?"
"Two million cash, tax-free. Not a dime less."
"Will they pay it?"
"Yes, but that's not the question. The question is, will we take it and run?"
She was cold, and he draped his coat over her shoulders. He held her tightly. "It's a rotten deal, Mitch," she said, "but at least we'll be together."
"The name's Harvey, not Mitch."
"Do you think we'll be safe, Harvey?"
"We're not safe here."
"I don't like it here. I'm lonely and scared."
"I'm tired of being a lawyer."
"Let's take the money and haul ass."
"You've got a deal, Thelma."
She handed the cassette tape to him. He glanced at it, then threw it far below, beyond Riverside Drive, in the direction of the river. They held hands and strolled quickly through the park toward the BMW parked on Front Street.
Chapter 24
For only the second time in his career, Mitch was allowed to visit the palatial dining room on the fifth floor. Avery's invitation came with the explanation that the partners were all quite impressed with the seventy-one hours per week he averaged in billing for the month of February, and thus they wished to offer the small reward of lunch. It was an invitation no associate could turn down, regardless of schedules and meetings and clients and deadlines and all the other terribly important and urgently critical aspects of careers at Bendini, Lambert & Locke. Never in history had an associate said No to an invitation to the dining room. Each received two invitations per year. Records were kept.
Mitch had two days to prepare for it. His first impulse was to decline, and when Avery first mentioned it a dozen lame excuses crossed his mind. Eating and smiling and chatting and fraternizing with criminals, regardless of how rich and polished, was less attractive than sharing a bowl of soup with a homeless down at the bus station. But to say No would be a grievous breach of tradition. And as things were going, his movements were already suspicious enough.
So he sat with his back to the window and forced smiles and small talk in the direction of Avery and Royce McKnight and, of course, Oliver Lambert. He knew he would eat at the same table with those three. Knew it for two days.
He knew they would watch him carefully but nonchalantly, trying to detect any loss of enthusiasm, or cynicism, or hopelessness. Anything, really. He knew they would hang on his every word, regardless of what he said. He knew they would lavish praise and promises upon his weary shoulders.
Oliver Lambert had never been more charming. Seventy-one hours a week for a February for an associate was a firm record, he said as Roosevelt served prime rib. All the partners were amazed, and delighted, he explained softly while glancing around the room. Mitch forced a smile and sliced his serving. The other partners, amazed or indifferent, were talking idly and concentrating on the food. Mitch counted eighteen active partners and seven retirees, those with the khakis and sweaters and relaxed looks about them.
"You have remarkable stamina, Mitch," Royce