“Now, that worries me. Horse parlors are always run by the mob, just like bookmaking is. I think after the bank job, I’ll just drift back to New Jersey and enjoy my new apartment for a while, watch some TV, wait for opportunities to raise their heads. That’s what you should do, too.”

“If you say so. I sure don’t want the mob after me. Life is too short for that shit.”

“Vinny, what do you tell your mother you do for money?”

“I don’t tell her nothing, and she don’t ask.”

“Why not? Doesn’t she want to know what her son does for a living?”

“My old man was a short-con grifter his whole life. He didn’t tell her nothing, and she learned not to ask. I’m just carrying on the family tradition.”

“You’re a grifter?”

“Nah, I don’t seem to have the talent for talking, like the old man did.”

“Whatever happened to him?”

“He ran into a wise mark and got himself plugged a couple times. That was that.”

“Vinny, you going to be okay for this bank deal?”

“I’m okay, if you’re okay, Gene. You got reservations, I got reservations.”

“I got no reservations,” Gene said, and ordered another drink with an umbrella.

—

Dino woke to a faint buzzing from the phone on his desk. He grabbed it: “What?”

“You’ve got a regular lunch date with the DC of PI at one,” she said. “That’s in fifteen minutes.”

“Break it. Tell him I’m not caught up yet.” He hung up and tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t. He got up and used his private powder room, then went back to his desk and called Stone. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit, but don’t tell Viv.”

“Of course not. I looked at you last night and thought you weren’t ready to go back, but I didn’t say anything.”

“Fifteen minutes after I got here I was asleep on my sofa.”

“That’s what a sofa is for,” Stone said. “Where’s Viv today?” Viv traveled all the time.

“Chicago—should be back for dinner, she says.”

“Why don’t you go home and go to bed?”

“I can’t, Eva would rat me out.”

“Come over here, then, and use my sofa.”

“Love to,” Dino said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes, if I have to use the siren.” He hung up, got his jacket, and opened the door. “Tell ’em to bring the car around,” he said.

“Where you going?”

“Private meeting, confidential informer.”

“That’s what my last boss used to say. He’s divorced now.”

“Nothing like that. I just can’t stand being in the office for another minute. I came back too soon.”