“You must have a permit for the foundations, then for the structure, then the roof—electrical, plumbing, all sorts of things.”

“’Twas ever thus, ’twill ever be.”

“What?”

“Please go on.”

“Our services extend even to supervising the building’s workforce and that of subcontractors.”

“Mr. Casselli—”

“Leonardo, please.”

“Leonardo, perhaps you are not aware that we have obtained all the required permits so far with little trouble with the bureaucracy. We, in fact, have already employed . . . consultants . . . who are performing satisfactorily.”

“Ah, but you have had a major fire, which complicates things.”

“Not really. We have obtained a permit for clearing the ground and starting over.” Stone didn’t really know about these things, just the broad strokes, but he wanted to needle Casselli.

The food and wine arrived, and the waiter poured generous glasses. Stone raised his and took a sip. Casselli raised his and took a gulp.

“Sometimes,” Casselli continued, “frequently even, accidents occur on a site, and new permits are required.”

“Leonardo,” Stone said, “let me pause you right there. Clearly, you have spent much of your life in New York, and perhaps even on the Lower East Side and Little Italy. What you are trying to explain, decorously, to me is just a new version of an old practice. Someone throws a brick through the window of a small shop, then magically, his colleague appears to offer the owner protection from such outrages. A small weekly fee and no more bricks through the window: no more customers covered in broken glass, no more plateglass windows replaced. It’s a very old racket, and I must say, I’m surprised that you have not found newer, more profitable ways to earn a living.”

Casselli reddened slightly, then smiled. “And I am surprised that you would think that we are not more modern in our approach. Oh, and the food is delicious—good choice.”

“Thank you. If you will forgive me for interrupting, I think I should take a moment to tell you what you are up against.”

“Up against?” Casselli asked, as if he had never heard of such a thing.

“In this instance, you are not dealing with a shopkeeper, but with Mr. duBois, possibly the richest man in Europe, and one with many, many business resources, and in my case with a person of considerable wealth and associations that are wide and deep. Perhaps you have heard of a company called Strategic Services?”

“Vaguely.”