a view of Hogsty Bay. Two clerks were waiting.
"Exactly what do you need, Avery?" Osgood asked through his nose.
"Let's start off with some coffee. I need summaries of all the accounts of Sonny Capps, Al Coscia, Dolph Hemmba, Ratzlaff Partners and Greene Group."
"Yes, and how far back would you like to go?"
"Six months. Every account."
Osgood snapped his fingers at one of the clerks. She left and returned with a tray of coffee and pastries. The other clerk took notes.
"Of course, Avery, we'll need authorization and powers of attorney for each of these clients," Osgood said.
"They're on file," Avery said as he unpacked his briefcase.
"Yes, but they've expired. We'll need current ones. Every account."
"Very well." Avery slid a file across the table. "They're in there. Everything's current." He winked at Mitch.
A clerk took the file and spread the documents over the table. Each instrument was scrutinized by both clerks, then by Osgood himself. The lawyers drank coffee and waited.
Osgood smiled and said, "It all appears to be in order. We'll get the records. What else do you need?"
"I need to establish three corporations. Two for Sonny Capps and one for Greene Group. We'll follow the usual procedure. The bank will serve as registered agent, etc."
"I'll procure the necessary documents," Osgood said, and looked at a clerk. "What else?"
"That's all for now."
"Very well. We should have these records within thirty minutes. Will you be joining me for lunch?"
"I'm sorry, Randolph. I must decline. Mitch and I have a prior commitment. Maybe tomorrow."
Mitch knew nothing of a prior commitment, at least none he was involved in.
"Perhaps," replied Osgood. He left the room with the clerks.
Avery closed the door and removed his jacket. He walked to the window and sipped coffee. "Look, Mitch. I'm sorry about last night. Very sorry. I got drunk and quit thinking. I was wrong to push that woman on you."
"Apology accepted. Don't let it happen again."
"It won't. I promise."
"Was she good?"
I think so. I don't remember too much. What did you do with her sister?"
"She told me to get lost. I hit the beach and took a walk."
Avery bit into a pastry and wiped his mouth. "You know I'm separated. We'll probably get a divorce in a year or so. I'm very discreet because the divorce could get nasty. There's an unwritten rule in - what we do away from Memphis stays away from Memphis. Understand?"
"Come on, Avery. You know I wouldn't tell."
"I know. I know."
Mitch was glad to hear of the unwritten rule, although he awakened with the security that he had committed the perfect crime. He had thought of her in bed, the shower, the taxi, and now he had trouble concentrating on anything. He had caught himself looking at jewelry stores when they reached Georgetown.
"I've got a question," Mitch said.
Avery nodded and ate the pastry.
"When I was recruited a few months ago by Oliver Lambert and McKnight and the gang, it was impressed upon me repeatedly that frowned on divorce, women, booze, drugs, everything but hard work and money. That's why I took the job. I've seen the hard work and money, but now I'm seeing other things. Where did you go wrong? Or do all the guys do it?"
"I don't like your question."
"I knew you wouldn't. But I'd like an answer. I deserve an answer. I feel like I was misled."
"So what are you going to do? Leave because I got drunk and laid up with a whore?"
"I haven't thought about leaving."
"Good. Don't."
"But I'm entitled to an answer."
"Okay. Fair enough. I'm the biggest rogue in, and they'll come down hard when I mention the divorce. I chase women now and then, but no one knows it. Or at least they can't catch me. I'm sure it's done by other partners, but you'd never catch them. Not all of them, but a few. Most have very stable marriages and are forever faithful to their wives. I've always been the bad boy, but they've tolerated me because I'm so talented. They know I drink during lunch and sometimes in the office, and they know I violate some more of their sacred rules, but they made me a partner because they need me. And now that I'm a partner, they can't do much about it. I'm not that bad of a guy, Mitch."
"I didn't say you were."
"I'm not perfect. Some of them are, believe me. They're machines, robots. They live, eat and sleep for Bendini, Lambert & Locke. I like to have a little fun."
"So you're the exception