We got off at the top floor and followed the noise to the Presidential Suite. Nick met us at the door and gave me the big smirk, then jerked his thumb through the door. “Inside, hotshot.” The Nick-ster.

Inside, a quadraphonic stereo system was blasting out Fine Young Cannibals, and the air smelled like Jiffy Pop popcorn and cigarettes. Peter Alan Nelsen was talking to a couple of guys in baggy suits out by the terrace, and a guy with a loud green tie was speaking into a phone by the bar. One of the guys with Peter was wearing a paisley ascot and was smoking a purple cigarette. Dani and T.J. were slouching on the palatial furniture, and a thin woman going for the Tama Janowitz look sat next to T.J. with her hand on his thigh. Dani gave me a little wave. There were open bottles of Absolut vodka and Jack Daniel’s bourbon on the bar, and Nestlé’s wrappers on the floor. Most of the Absolut was gone. It probably wasn’t like this when the president was in residence. Grady frowned at the mess and gave disapproving. Nope, it wasn’t like this with the president.

Peter saw us and turned away from the two guys by the terrace without excusing himself and said, “Well, it’s about goddamned time. Dani, turn off that shit and get these Broadway fruits out of here.” Broadway fruits. Always sensitive.

The guy with the ascot looked peeved. He said, “Peter, we have the backers in place. If you’ll agree to direct the play, we can be on the boards by next fall.”

Peter said, “Nick, give Dani a hand with the fruits.”

Nick pulled the phone away from the guy at the bar, then pointed at the two guys by the terrace and showed them his famous thumb-jerked-at-the-door move. High verbal. The guy with the ascot said, “I’m sure we can reach some sort of agreement,” but Peter wasn’t listening; he was already over with me and Grady. Nick and Dani hustled the three Broadway people out. The Tama Janowitz went with them.

Peter said, “Jesus Christ, you were supposed to find my kid and let me know. Instead, I gotta hire somebody to find you. I thought we were pals.” He looked hurt.

“There were things I wanted to find out and do before I called you in.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Bullshit. I didn’t hire you to do things. I hired you to find my kid. What’re you trying to do, jack up the price?” Now he was giving me suspicious.

I said, “If you had waited, I would’ve called. Karen needs to prepare the boy, and there are things going on in her life that she needs to straighten out. That’s what’s been taking the time.”