Gino was sucking in air fast now. “What kind of an airplane?”

“A small, cheap one,” Frank replied.

“How cheap?” Gino demanded.

“Six hundred bucks, cash,” Frank replied, handing him the receipt. “It’s deductible as a business expense.”

Gino’s jaw was working, but no words were coming out.

“Gino,” Frank said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “should I call the paramedics?”

Gino still couldn’t speak, but he shook his head slowly. “I’m all right,” he said finally.

“I’m glad to hear it. You shouldn’t get all worked up about a necessary business expense, Gino. It’s not good for your health.”

Gino’s color was nearly normal by now. “Tell me what’s necessary about chartering an airplane.”

“The person you asked us to . . . ah, meet with, shall we say, got into an airplane and flew to a little airport on an island in Maine. I know this, because I tracked his flight on my iPad.”

Gino’s face screwed up into a knot. “An I what? What are you talking about?”

“It’s an electronic device in common usage these days. It does lots of things—ask your grandchildren.”

“And how much did that cost?”

“A few hundred. Don’t worry, it’s included in our fee.”

“Well, un-include it! I’m not paying for any electronic crap.”

“I paid for it myself, Gino, and for the electronic tag I put on Barrington’s car.”

“Let’s get back to the airplane: You flew it to Maine?”

“That’s right. We landed where Barrington landed—his airplane was on the ramp there.”

“And what did you do to him?”

“Well, things didn’t go exactly as planned. We were unable to find him.”

“On an island? How many people on this island?”

“I don’t know, not many. None of them knew Barrington, though, and he wasn’t in the phone book. We searched the whole island and couldn’t find him. These things happen, Gino. We could be in Manhattan and not be able to find him on a given day.”

“I’m not paying for things that didn’t happen,” Gino said firmly.

“We’re not charging you by the minute, Gino. Our deal was our fee, plus expenses. This was an expense. It’s the cost of doing business.”

“But why Maine? Why didn’t you just wait for him to come back?”

“Think about it, Gino. Maine is better—it’s farther removed from you. And us, for that matter. Cops are going to get involved, eventually. Would you rather they be hick cops on a little island in Maine, or real cops in New York City?”

Gino’s features softened. “You got a point there.”

“In my judgment Maine was worth a shot,” Frank said. “One of the things you’re paying me for is my judgment.”

“Okay, how long is he gonna be in Maine? Maybe you could go back.”