When I got to the end of the bar near the service entrance, I stood on tiptoe to try to spot Emily or Mary Louise, but the crowd was too dense. Sal had moved all the barstools to the basement. I leaned against the wall, making myself as flat as possible, as harassed wait staff rushed by with hors d’oeuvres and bottles.

Murray had moved to the far end of the bar from me, still with the woman in silver gauze. He seemed to be regaling her with the tale of how Sal acquired her mahogany horseshoe bar from the remains of a Gold Coast mansion. Years ago when she was starting out, she got me and her brothers to climb through the rubble to help her haul it off. Watching the woman tilt her head back in a theatrical laugh, I was betting that Murray was pretending he’d been part of the crew. Something about the shape of his partner’s face or the full–lipped pout she gave when she was listening was familiar, but I couldn’t place her.

Sal stopped briefly by me again, holding a plate of smoked salmon. “I have to stay here till the last dog dies, but you don’t—go on home, Warshawski.”

I took some salmon and explained morosely that I was waiting on Mary Louise and Emily. “Want me to tend bar? It would give me something to do.”

“Be better if you went in the back and washed dishes. Since I don’t usually serve food here at the Glow my little washer is blowing its brains out trying to keep up with this. Want me to bring you the Black Label?”

“I’m driving. San Pellegrino is my limit for the evening.”

Murray maneuvered his way across the bar with his companion and put his arm around Sal. “Thanks for opening up the Glow to this mob scene. I thought we ought to celebrate at some place authentically Chicago.”

He kept an arm around Sal in a protective hug and introduced her to his companion. “Sal Barthele, one of the truly great Chicago stories. Alexandra Fisher, one of the truly great Chicago escapees. And you know V. I. Warshawski.”

“Yes, I know Vic.” Sal extricated herself from Murray. “Stop showing off, Murray. Not all of us are swooning because you sat in front of a camera for fifteen minutes.”

Murray threw back his head and laughed. “That’s what makes this a great town. But I was talking to Alex. She and Vic were in law school together.”

“We were?” The name didn’t ring a bell.

“I’ve changed a little.” Alex laughed, too, and squeezed my hand in a power shake.