“And, even if we don’t need their help, we’re—” He chewed as he searched for a word. “—obligated to them. Reminds me of this guy I knew in school. His uncle was a politician who’d always take his nieces and nephews aside and tell them, if they ever got in any trouble with the cops, even a speeding ticket, just come to him. Well, my friend never got a single ticket, but when his uncle needed help campaigning, you can bet he called the ‘debt’ in. With the Cortezes, they don’t call in the debt. They just let it hang over our heads, which drives Guy crazy.”

“I’m sure it does.” A sentiment voiced with complete sincerity, having lived with just such a ticking bomb for two years.

“Your scheme, though, meant it was never reported to the cops, meaning the Cabal won’t be on Guy’s back about it. So he’s grateful.”

And here was my chance, as much as I hated to take it. “I suppose he’s especially sensitive about that now, after the recent problems…”

“Yeah.”

Jaz took a drink of his beer. I struggled against the urge to let it drop, and tell Benicio I couldn’t get anything more. I reminded myself why I was here and felt a prickle of unease that I needed the reminder.

“Is that what it’s been about?” I pressed. “These dustups? About the gang owing the Cabal for its protection?”

“Some of it. Normally, like I said, the Cabal just lets us know we’re covered, maybe raps our knuckles if we call too much attention to ourselves. But the last big job we pulled?” He shook his head. “They went all Sopranos on our heads.”

“What happened?”

He hesitated, as if he shouldn’t go on, but the urge to talk won out. “It was the next afternoon. Sonny and I collected our share, and we were heading back to our place, goofing off, buzzed by the windfall. Sure, we had our guard down but, shit, it was the middle of the day, and South Beach isn’t exactly downtown Miami. But on this back road, we get jumped by four guys. Two in front, two behind, cutting us off. A magician’s powers are nearly useless in a fight. And, I gotta admit, I’m not much of a brawler. Sonny neither. Just not our thing. So we see these four guys surrounding us and we didn’t put up any resistance. They must have been disappointed, ’cause one smacks me into a wall. When Sonny jumps in to help me, he gets a pistol in the temple.”

“Shit.”