“Yes, but I’m not leaving the city today. You can be here in half an hour if you leave now.” He hated it. All executives hate it when you don’t leap the first moment they bark out an order. But I couldn’t stray from my base, even assuming my stiff body would start moving. Between Vinnie and Dick something was going to happen soon. I wanted to be here for it.

The conversation ended with my giving Loring directions on how to find my apartment. “And by the way, how did you get my home number? It’s not listed.”

“Oh, that. I called some people to find out about you and they sicced me onto Daraugh Graham at Continental Lakeside. He gave it to me.” The old executive network strikes back.

I staggered into the bathroom to scrub my teeth clean of lint. If I only had half an hour, I needed a workout more than I did coffee. Since I still hadn’t replaced my running shoes I put everything I had into my exercises, working a lot more with my handweights than usual. It took a full forty minutes but my brain felt looser, as if it might be willing to do a little work if called on.

I showered and dressed. I dug through the mess on the floor of my hall closet and unearthed an old pair of running shoes. They dated back five or six years and were worn too thin for serious running, but they made getting around easier than the loafers I’d been wearing.

Since Loring still hadn’t shown, I made coffee and a snack. After fried eggs at six this morning it was time to get back to a healthier regimen. I sautéed tofu with spinach and mushrooms and took it into the living room with the Smith & Wesson. I didn’t seriously expect Loring to attack me, but I didn’t want to be really stupid at this point either. I tucked the gun under a stack of papers on the couch and curled up cross-legged next to them.

I was halfway through my tofu when Luke Edwards called to tell me the Trans Am was ready. He gave me a lugubrious account of the patient’s near-death and her survival, due solely to his heroic efforts.

“You can come get it today, Warshawski. In fact, I wish you would—I need the Impala back. I’ve got someone who wants to buy it.”

With a guilty jolt I remembered leaving the Impala around the corner from Barney’s on Forty-first Street. With all the truck traffic in and out of the warehouses there, I sincerely hoped Luke’s baby was in one piece. I calculated times. If Loring arrived soon I’d be able to leave by four, but I’d have to go south on public transportation—otherwise I’d just have to fetch Rent-A-Wreck’s Nova back later.