“You mean if it gets to court,” Jason said. “But you keep telling me we can keep things from going that far.”

“So how much of your shenanigans is Dick privy to, anyway?” That was probably the least essential thing to worry about right now, but it seemed important to know Dick hadn’t been involved in the attempts on my life.

“We thought you might listen to him,” Peter said. “The way you clung to his arm that night at the concert I thought you were still carrying a torch for him. He said you’d never pay attention to him in a million years. It’s too bad he was right.”

“Carrying a torch?” I echoed. “No one says that anymore. What was I supposed to listen to, anyway?”

“To keep your goddamned snooper’s nose out of Diamond Head.” Peter slammed the desktop. Its hollow metal top buckled at the blow; he rubbed the side of his hand. “We were managing perfectly well until—”

“Until I came along and found out about the bond parking and defrauding old ladies and stealing raw materials from Paragon. Not to mention fooling around with the pension fund.”

“That was perfectly legal,” Jason said. “Dick told me so.”

“And stealing copper from Paragon? He okay that too?”

“Everything would have been fine if you hadn’t felt you had to make a fast buck under the table.” Peter spat at his brother.

“It was Milt’s idea,” Jason whined. “He’d take a cut instead of a production bonus.”

Chamfers moved angrily in his chair and started to protest, but shut up at a gesture from Peter.

“You were always such a fucking two-bit operator, Jason. You pissed and moaned because Papa didn’t leave you the company, but he knew you were too stupid to run it. Then you pissed for forty years while you screwed around on the fringes of big-time politics, so I helped you get your own company. And now you’ve fucked that up.”

“Whose fault is that?” Jason’s round face looked green in the uncertain light. “You had to use your hotshot son-in-law to do the legal work. I could have got it—”

“You could have got it screwed nine ways from Sunday if I’d left it to your Du Page County Board cronies. I’m cleaning up after Warshawski for you, but you know the condition. You stop funneling supplies away from Paragon.”

My legs felt wobbly at his words. I grabbed the doorknob behind me for support. It had a little button lock in it. I pressed it home. That wouldn’t keep Simon out long, but any fraction of a second would help.