“Yes,” Hooper said after one ring. He was between calls on the Gloria Croft assignment and thought it might be one of the contacts he had made calling him back.

“Hi, it’s the boss.”

“Hi, boss.”

“What’s happening? Any dirt?”

“I’m only three hours in. Not even.”

“What’s the setup?”

“I’m a headhunter looking for someone for a major bank CEO job. The board wants a woman for appearances’ sake. I’m asking around about people on my supposed list.”

“Our friend doesn’t need a job, she makes seven figures–plus a year,” said Trotter with disappointment. He purposely avoided using Croft’s name.

“I know that. They know that. But people like showing off how much they know. I think someone might tell me just how much she doesn’t need a job in a bank. Or need the scrutiny of running a public company, more like it.”

“So you want someone to brag about what they know.”

“Sure, everyone does it. Most everyone. And the finance world is like a small, competitive club which feeds on gossip.”

Okay, that was more like it. Jerry was struck again by how much Hooper and Brubaker sounded alike. They sounded like Brooklyn cops, which is what they both had once been.

“So you shake anything out of the tree yet?”

“Just spoke to a guy who knew her at Morgan, back in the day. I said someone mentioned him as a possible reference, and he laughed. Real asshole, thinks I’m a moron having gone to Brooklyn College nights. I don’t like these Ivy League types. But he has something, I’m sure. Trying to fuck with me a little. Hope he doesn’t push it ’cause he’s messing with the wrong guy. I can get his nice car towed tonight, and it ain’t goin’ to the pound.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can. That’s what keeps me honest in our relationship.”

Hooper laughed, then added, “One other thing. He mentioned that I might ask one of the bankers Higgins mentioned when we talked this afternoon. He said if I wanted dirt on our friend to ask him, because he thought he had been literally and figuratively fucking her back in their Morgan days.”

Trotter frowned. “Which one?”

“The thick guy with the short hair,” Hooper said.

“Now, that is interesting,” Trotter said. “Don’t call and ask him directly. Make it part of your investigation. It could be interesting.”

“Got it,” Hooper said.

As Trotter hung up the phone, he smiled. “Edmund, you rogue.”

Chapter 19.

19.

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER
NEW YORK CITY
MARCH 3, 2011, 9:02 P.M.