“Didn’t sleep well,” Jerry said. “Nothing some good news won’t cure. I’m presuming it’s good news because you couldn’t tell me over the phone.”

“I wanted to have a little word with you, face-to-face.”

“Oh, yes.”

“I’m kinda wondering why you’re so interested in this guy.”

“Well, what’s it to you, Harry? I asked you to find out some information and you seem to have found something. Obviously I want to have some leverage over this person, but it’s nothing you need worry about.”

“I’m curious how valuable the information might be.”

Jerry paused while the waiter served their drinks. Was this little asshole trying to shake him down? The waiter left, and Jerry picked up his glass slowly.

“Cheers, Harry.” Jerry knocked back half of his drink and put it down. “I’d say the information is worth the three hundred an hour I’m paying you. That was our agreement, I believe. A very generous one.”

“Agreements are made to be renegotiated,” Hooper said.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Another ten grand.”

“Ten grand? Are you kidding?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Jerry laughed, he couldn’t help himself. Ten thousand was chicken feed. Anticipating that Hooper would try something like this, although not quite so unsubtly, he had brought fifty thousand dollars with him and was willing to spend it.

“Let me think about it,” Jerry said, pretending to look pensive. “You must think I’m an idiot,” he added, taking another gulp of vodka. “You and Brubaker both. Do you call each other and say, ‘What an idiot that Jerry Trotter is, thinking he’s some kind of spy’?”

Hooper looked at Jerry coldly. He didn’t say no.

“I’m an idiot, but I’m not a total idiot.”

Jerry reached into the pocket on the front of his leather jacket and took out a small digital recorder of the type Hooper was familiar with.

“What’s that?” Now Hooper was smiling.

“I taped our calls, Harry. Not on this machine but another one just like it. What did you say—‘basic precautions’? I prefer to think of it as insurance. Ha, me and insurance.” Jerry finished his drink and held up his glass for the hovering waiter. Hooper hadn’t touched his drink.

“There’s nothing on there. I never say anything on the phone.”

“Oh, really? Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Hooper’s eyes darted around the room briefly, and he took a sip of his drink.

Jerry had got him thinking, he could see that.

“We’re in this together, my friend. I have no intention of doing anything with the recordings. As you say, there’s probably nothing there. But we’ve definitely entered a new phase in our relationship. You were very honest with me—you want more money. Okay.”