“And I’ll answer them for you. One: The girl got away from my people across the roof. She apparently has the agility of a cat burglar, which is more than I can say for your boy, Herbie. Two: The four suits who got there first work for a foreign intelligence service, and their country of origin shall remain nameless. Three: They and the cops got there so fast because they were waiting on the landing below, laying for one or both of the people in the apartment. Four: No, I don’t know where the photographs are that Herbie took. Any other questions?”

Stone shook his head. “Thank God Herbie kept my name out of it.”

“Yeah? What makes you think that? He was spilling his guts in the patrol car, up the front steps of the precinct, and into an interview room faster than anybody could write it down, and you were the star of his story.” Dino swept a hand expressively across the table, nearly spilling his beer. “Above-the-title billing!”

The waiter set their food before them.

“I’m going to throw up,” Stone said.

“Well, do it in your hat, pal. I’m eating, here.”

“I can’t eat this,” Stone said, beginning to eat the chili.

“Don’t worry, the detective knows we’re friends; he’ll keep it to himself, and I’ve already scrubbed the interview tape clean.”

“Thank you, Dino.”

“Is that all you can say? You ought to be offering me Carpenter’s sweet body on a platter.”

“Carpenter’s in this, somehow,” Stone said. “I have a feeling she knows the country of origin of the gentlemen present last night. When I told her what happened, she started making phone calls, and when I woke up, she hadn’t slept in the bed.”

“Poor you.”

“I don’t think Herbie’s fall killed Larry Fortescue,” Stone said.

“Well, neither do I,” Dino replied, “but we’ll probably never know.”

“Why not? The medical examiner will figure it out.”

“The ME was poised over the corpse this morning, scalpel raised, when two guys showed up with a federal court order and took the body away in a van.”

“Holy shit.”

“My sentiments, more or less.”

“This whole business is completely out of control,” Stone said.

“Well, completely out of our control,” Dino agreed. “But somebody must know what’s going on. Certainly, nobody in the NYPD does.”

Stone finished his chili. “I do know something you don’t,” Stone said.

“What?”

“I know where the photographs are.”

“I want them now,” Dino said, pushing away from the table.

“Just a minute,” Stone said. “You get one set of prints, I get the negatives and all the others.”

“Deal,” Dino said, standing up.

“And I need them processed by two-thirty, with nobody the wiser. You know somebody who can do that?”

“You bet your ass,” Dino said. “Let’s get out of here.”