Something like an anguished grin creased the man's bristle-brush beard. 'I've been waiting for you to return,' he said, nodding toward a Porsche parked on the sun-bleached street. 'I knew it was you, but then, when I saw your face…' He hesitated. 'As you know, I only see strangers.'

'How can I help you?' Thomas asked.

'I heard about your son, Professor Bible. I…' The billionaire licked his lips in hesitation. 'I wanted to say that I'm sorry.'

Thomas blinked, suddenly found himself despising the man.

'To be honest, I didn't have you pegged as the sorry sort, Mr Gyges.'

The man's eyes narrowed in appreciation. 'I understand, Professor Bible. I really do. You came to me seeking help, and I turned you out.' He let go a thin-winded, patrician sigh. 'But…'

'But what, Mr Gyges?'

'Listen. You and I know this whole investigation, this task force, is bullshit. They want your friend, sure, but they want him to stay a secret far more. This has nothing to do with justice…' He glanced to either side, as though suddenly conscious of eavesdroppers. He leaned close.

'It's a matter of hygiene.'

Thomas nodded, felt the hatred drop out the bottom of him. 'So what are you suggesting? That we go to the papers?' Part of his fight with Nora had involved going to the net with their story—something Thomas had dismissed outright. The FBI was all they had, and he for one was not about to fall for the delusional conviction that he 'knew better than…' People always thought they knew better, despite the astronomical odds.

'You don't think I've rattled the chain?' Gyges said. 'I'm a connected man, Mr Bible, a man with leverage. What they say about the Golden Rule is true, believe you me. But you'd need the arms of God to ring the bell on this one. I've had old friends, senators, tell me to never call them again. And I've been told…'

Gyges trailed into frowning silence.

'Told what?' A tingle had crept into his cheeks. 'Just what are you saying?'

The man's face, which was about as handsome as a bearded baseball glove, went blank. 'Nothing,' he said.

'Then why are you here?'

Gyges ran his tongue across his teeth. 'I was just an ante,' he finally said. 'But you, Mr Bible, you've been dealt a hand at this game.'

'So?'

'So, I'm a man of resources. More than people like you can believe. I just want you to know that for me this is a matter of justice. Fuck hygiene.'

He produced an ivory card from his breast pocket, held it out to Thomas.

'Every player needs a banker, Mr Bible. Every serious player.'

Gyges turned and trotted down the steps. Regretting his hostility, Thomas called out to him as he crossed the lawn.