I dressed with a care that made me feel a little annoyed with myself, in a soft gold top with a charcoal pantsuit. I didn’t think I wanted to show off for Dick, at least not in a sexual way. I just wanted to seem cool and prosperous. Big earrings and a chunky necklace added a touch of modernity. The jacket was cut full enough to hide my shoulder holster.

It had been almost four days since I’d gone into the drink. I was beginning to feel nervous about the peace my pals were leaving me in. No threatening calls, no firebombs through the window. That wasn’t all due to the watchful eye of Conrad’s minions. I couldn’t help thinking they were saving up for some huge, ugly surprise.

I studied the street carefully from my living room window before leaving. It was hard to tell from this angle whether anyone was staking me out from the cars out front, but the Subaru that had dogged me last week wasn’t there. No one shot at me when I came out. Always a welcome beginning to the day.

I took a long way around to the Belmont Diner, in keeping with the first rule for terrorist targets: vary your route. Although it was a few minutes after seven when I got to the diner, Dick hadn’t arrived yet. In my eagerness to remember the rules for terrorism I’d forgotten those for power breakfasting: make the other person wait.

Barbara and Helen greeted me enthusiastically. Business was heavy, but they managed to give me the details of what had happened to my tail after I left Friday.

“Honey, you should have been here,” Barbara called over her shoulder, depositing a short stack and fried eggs at the table behind me. “Helen here practically undressed the poor slob, sobbing all over his trouser legs how sorry she was about the tea. And then—well, I’ll tell you in a minute.… You want your usual, don’t you, Jack? And how ’bout you, Chuck—two over easy, hon? And hash browns?” She whisked back to the kitchen.

Helen, who’d been unloading an armful of food in the corner, called over, “The high point was Marge. She came out from the kitchen to see what the commotion was and dropped a can of hot grease along the hallway. The poor slob’s backup had come tearing in. When the first guy yelled you’d gone out the rear, the second one went ass-over-tea-cup through the grease.” She roared with laughter.

Barbara reappeared with a fresh pot of coffee and poured out a cup for me. “It was great, Vic. God, I wish I’d brought my camera. It took ’em about an hour to get out of here and all the time we’re boo-hoo-hooing like we’re the Three Stooges and can’t help ourselves.… What are you having today, hon?”