We caught a cab on Constitution and told the driver to head toward the White House and cut over to the six hundred block of Fifteenth Street. I intended to treat Marino to the Old Ebbitt Grill, and at half past five, we did not have to wait in line but got a green velvet booth. I had always found a special pleasure in the restaurant’s stained glass, mirrors, and brass gas lamps wavering with flames. Turtles, boars, and antelopes were mounted over the bar, and the bartenders never seemed to slow down no matter the time of day.

A distinguished-looking husband and wife behind us were talking about Kennedy Center tickets and their son’s entering Harvard in the fall, while two young men debated whether lunch could go on the expense account. I parked my cardboard box next to me on the seat. Vessey had resealed it with yards of tape.

“I guess we should have asked for a table for three,” Marino said, looking at the box. “You sure it doesn’t stink? What if someone caught a whiff of it in here?”

“It doesn’t stink,” I said, opening my menu. “And I think it would be wise to change the subject so we can eat. The burger here is so good that even I break down now and then and order it.”

“I’m looking at the fish,” he said with great affectation. “You ever had them here?”

“Go to hell, Marino.”

“All right, you talked me into it, Doc. Burger it is. I wish it were the end of the day so I could have a beer. It’s torture to come to a joint like this and not have Jack Black or a tall one in a frosted mug. I bet they make mint juleps. I haven’t had one of those since I was dating that girl from Kentucky. Sabrina. Remember her?”

“Maybe if you describe her,” I absently said as I looked around and tried to relax.

“I used to bring her into the FOP. You was in there once with Benton, and I came over and introduced her. She had sort of reddish blond hair, blue eyes, and pretty skin. She used to roller skate competitively?”

I had no earthly idea whom he was talking about.

“Well”—he was still studying the menu—“it didn’t last very long. I don’t think she would have given me the time of day if it wasn’t for my truck. When she was sitting high in that king cab you would’ve thought she was waving at everybody from a float in the Rose Bowl parade.”

I started laughing, and the blank expression on his face only made matters worse. I was laughing so hard my eyes were streaming and the waiter paused and decided to come back later. Marino looked annoyed.

“What’s wrong with you?” he said.