“So perhaps this is my chance to make amends.”

Win shook his head.

“What?”

“How did you mess up in the first place? By interfering. How do you intend to make up for it? By interfering.”

“So I should just forget what I saw on that surveillance camera?”

“I would.” Win took a deep long sip. “But, alas, I know you can’t.”

“So what do we do?”

“What we always do. At least in the morning. Tonight I have plans.”

“And those would again be between Yu and Mee?”

“I would say bingo again, but I so hate repeating myself.”

“You know,” Myron said, choosing his words carefully, “and I don’t mean to moralize here or judge.”

Win crossed his legs. When he did it, the crease remained perfect. “Oh, this is going to be rich.”

“And I recognize that Mee has been a part of your life for longer than any woman I remember, and I’m glad that you seem to have at least curtailed your appetite for hookers.”

“I prefer the term ‘upscale escorts.’ ”

“Super. In the past, your womanizing, your being a cad . . .”

“A rakish cad,” Win said with a rakish smile. “I always liked the word ‘rakish,’ don’t you?”

“It fits,” Myron said.

“But?”

“When we were in our twenties and even thirties, it was all somewhat, I don’t know, endearing.”

Win waited.

Myron stared at the can of Yoo-hoo. “Forget it.”

“And now,” Win said, “you think my behavior, for a man of my years, is somewhat closer to pathetic.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“You think I should settle down a bit.”

“I just want you to be happy, Win.”

Win spread his hands. “So do I.”

Myron gave him the flat eyes. “You’re referring to the Yu in the other room again, aren’t you?”

The rakish grin. “Love me for all my faults.”

“Again, by me, do you mean, uh, Mee?”

Win stood. “Don’t worry, old friend. I am happy.” Win started moving toward the bedroom door. He stopped suddenly, closed his eyes, looked troubled. “But you may have a point.”

“That being?”

“Maybe I’m not happy,” he said, a wistful distant look on his face. “Maybe you’re not either.”

Myron waited, almost sighed. “Go ahead. Say it.”

“So perhaps it’s time to make Yu and Mee happy.”

He vanished into the other room. Myron stared at the Yoo-hoo can for a little while. There was no noise. Win had mercifully soundproofed his room years ago.

At seventy thirty A.M., a mussed Mee came out in a robe and started making breakfast. She asked Myron if he wanted something. Myron politely declined.

At eight A.M., his phone rang. He checked the number and saw it was from Big Cyndi.

“Good morning, Mr. Bolitar.”

“Good morning, Big Cyndi.”

“Your ponytailed drug dealer was at the club last night. And I tailed him.”

Myron frowned. “In the Batgirl costume?”