Myron waited for more customers. He wondered what Stu was up to. Something frantic, no doubt. Ten minutes later, a canary yellow Audi pulled up and a large black man slid out. The black man was maybe an inch shorter than Myron, but he was built. His chest could double as a jai alai wall and his legs resembled the trunks of redwoods. He glided when he moved not the bulky moves one usually associated with the overmuscled.

Myron did not like that.

The black man had sunglasses on and wore a red Hawaiian shirt with blue jean shorts. His most noticeable feature was his hair. The kinks had been slicked straight and parted on the side, like old photographs of Nat King Cole.

Myron pointed at the top of the man's head. "Is that hard to do?" he asked.

"What?" the black man said. "You mean the hair?"

Myron nodded. "Keeping it straight like that."

"Nah, not really. Once a week I go to a guy named Ray. In an old-fashioned barbershop, as a matter of fact.

The kind with the pole in front and everything." His smile was almost wistful. "Ray takes care of it for me.

Also gives me a great shave. With hot towels and everything." The man stroked his face for emphasis.

"Looks smooth," Myron said.

"Hey, thanks. Nice of you to say. I find it relaxing, you know? Doing something just for me. I think it's important.

To relieve the stress."

Myron nodded. "I hear you."

"Maybe I'll give you Ray's number. You could stop by and check it out."

"Ray," Myron repeated. "I'd like that."

The black man stepped closer. "Seems we have a little situation here, Mr. Bolitar."

"How did you know my name?"

He shrugged. Behind the sunglasses, Myron sensed that he was being sized up. Myron was doing the same.

Both were trying to be subtle. Both knew exactly what the other was doing.

"I'd really appreciate it if you would leave," he said very politely.

"l'm afraid I can't do that," Myron said. "Even though you did ask nicely."The black man nodded. He kept his distance. "Let's see if we can work something out here, okay?"

"Okeydokey."

"I got a job to do here, Myron. You can appreciate that, can't you?"

"Sure can," Myron said.

"And so do you."

"That's right."

The black man took off his sunglasses and put them in his shirt pocket. "Look, I know you won't be easy. And you know I won't be easy. lf push comes to shove, I don't know which one of us will win."

"I will," Myron said. "Good always triumphs over evil."

The man smiled. "Not in this neighborhood."

"Good point."

"I'm also not sure it's worth it to either one of us to find out. I think we're both probably past the provinghimself, macho-bullshit stage."

Myron nodded. "We're too mature."

"Right." " +

"lt seems then," Myron continued, "that we've hit an impasse."