The elevator stopped at the third floor, and as the door opened the stranger let go and shoved Jazik into a corner where he fell to his knees. The stranger walked past him and left as if nothing had happened. No one was waiting to get on, and Jazik quickly got to his feet, found his glasses, picked up his briefcase, and considered his options. His jaw stung and his ears were ringing and his first thought was to call the police and report the assault. There were federal marshals in the lobby and maybe he could wait there with them until his assailant emerged. On the way down, though, he decided it might be best not to overreact. By the time he reached the ground floor, he was breathing again. He found a restroom and splashed water on his face and looked at himself. The right side of his face was red but not swollen.

The physical sensation of taking such a blow was stunning, and painful. He felt something warm in his mouth and spat blood into the sink.

He had not spoken to Jerry Steengarden in over a month. They had little to discuss. Their meetings were always brief because Jerry had nothing to say. The stranger who had just slapped and threatened him had little to worry about.

3.

A few minutes before six, Denny returned to the bookshop and found Oscar waiting nervously at the front counter. The clerk was gone, as were the customers. Without a word Denny flipped the “Open/Closed” sign, locked the door, and turned off the lights. They climbed the stairs to the small cluttered office where Oscar preferred to spend his days while someone else managed the front. He took his seat behind the desk and waved at the only chair not covered with magazines.

Denny sat down and began with “Let’s not waste any time here, Oscar. I know you bought the manuscripts for half a million bucks. You wired the money to an account in the Bahamas. From there it went to an account in Panama and that’s where I picked it up. Minus, of course, the percentage for our facilitator.”

“So you’re the thief?” Oscar said calmly. With some pills, he had managed to settle his nerves.

“I’m not saying that.”

“How do I know you’re not a cop wearing a wire?” Oscar asked.

“You want to frisk me. Go ahead. How would a cop know the price? How would a cop know the details of the money trail?”

“I’m sure the FBI can track anything.”

“If they knew what I know they would simply arrest you, Oscar. Relax, you’re not going to get arrested. Nor am I. You see, Oscar, I can’t go to the cops and you can’t either. We’re both guilty as hell and looking at a long spell in a federal pen. But it’s not going to happen.”

Oscar wanted to believe him and was somewhat relieved. However, it was obvious there were a few immediate challenges. He took a deep breath and said, “I don’t have them.”