They landed at Tamiami Airport and got Manny White’s address from a phone book, then took a cab.

Manny White Investigations was housed in an elegant little Art Deco office building in South Beach, on the top floor. There was a nicely furnished reception room with a pretty receptionist, and they were shown into Manny’s office right away.

Manny didn’t rise to greet them. “Well,” he said, deadpan, “to what do I owe the thrill of this visit?”

“We were in town and thought we’d drop by to say hello,” Dino replied, offering himself a chair.

“Hello,” Manny said. He turned toward Stone. “You too.”

“Hi, Manny,” Stone replied.

“So how long you been in business here?” Dino asked.

“Since I retired, seven years ago.”

Dino looked around the office. “Business must be good.”

“Not bad,” Manny said. “It took a while to build it up.”

“What sort of investigations do you do?” Stone asked.

“Skip tracing, employee embezzlement, divorce and child custody, you name it.”

“How many operatives do you employ?” Dino asked.

“Half a dozen, all freelancers.”

“Who are they?”

“Ex-cops, mostly. Now and then I run across somebody who’s just smart, and I hire him.”

“Manny,” Dino said, “you were helpful to us when a client of Stone’s was in danger of getting shot. Suppose we wanted a little wet work done. Could you send me to somebody good?”

“What kind of wet work?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“How can I send you to the right guy if I don’t know what kind of work you want done? Everybody’s a specialist these days. You want somebody burgled, I recommend one guy; you want a debt collected, I recommend another guy.”

“Suppose we wanted somebody’s clock stopped,” Stone said.

“Could you handle that?”

Manny regarded him evenly. “You guys wearing a wire? Maybe you should be in your underwear for this conversation.”

“I’ll be happy to strip for you, Manny, but neither of us is wired.”

“This is just an informal discussion,” Dino said. “Very hypothetical. Could you handle a clock-stopping?”

“I don’t handle nothing,” Manny said. “I just pass along instructions.”

“You sound like the Happy Hooker, Manny,” Dino said.

“That’s not an unfair comparison,” Manny replied. “I’ll need to know whose clock we’re talking about and where he is, something about his habits.”

“Maybe we should talk directly to your contractor,” Stone said. Manny shook his head slowly. “You never meet him; he’s funny that way.”

“What’s the going rate for clock-stopping these days?” Dino asked.

Manny shrugged. “Depends on distance, difficulty and whether the guy has protection.”

“Ballpark number?”

“Could be twenty-five big ones, if it’s local and easy; two, three times that if travel is involved and if he has security. What part of the country we talking about?”

“Key West, maybe,” Stone said. “Maybe Connecticut.”

Manny became inert.

“Manny, you still there?” Dino asked.