"Shit. Are you sure? I thought it was Beck's, like he was packing it to take with him when he left."

"Nuhn-uhn. He was verifying Salustio's total before making a deposit to his account. Now he's twenty-five grand short."

I could hear her lighting a cigarette. I said, "What made you think you could get away with it?"

"It was a whim, like an impulse. Haven't you ever done anything like that? Spur of the moment. I just did it, that's all."

"Well, you better put it back before Beck figures it out."

"How'm I supposed to do that?"

"How would I know? Stick it in an envelope and leave it at Willard's desk. He can pass it on to Marty or take it up himself –"

"But why do I have to do anything? Beck can't prove it, can he? I mean, how can he prove it when I didn't leave fingerprints?"

"For one thing, he's got security tapes that show you going in and out of the building. Beyond that, he doesn't have to prove a thing. All he has to do is tell Salustio and you're screwed."

"He wouldn't do that to me, would he? I mean, I know he's a shit, but he wouldn't tell Salustio. You think?"

"Of course he would! Salustio expects him to cough up the missing twenty-five grand."

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

"Look, Reeb. I'll say this again. Vince Turner can probably help if you'll turn around and help him."

"What good does that do me with Salustio?"

"Maybe Vince can put you somewhere safe until it's all ironed out."

"Oh, man. This is bad. You think I should call Beck?"

"You'd be smarter to keep away from him and talk to Vince instead. He wants to see you anyway before you meet with the feds."

"What feds? I don't have a meeting with the feds. The guy dropped the ball."

"He did not. The meeting's been changed to tomorrow afternoon at four. I'll pick you up at twelve-thirty and you can spend a couple of hours with him first."

"About bloody time."

"I told you it would take time."

"Yeah, well, it's too late now.'"

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning, I gotta think how to handle this. I'll call you back." The line went dead.

So much for my powers of persuasion.

That night, Cheney was busy with softball practice, so I was on my own. I had dinner at Rosie's, after which I retired to my apartment and spent the evening with a book.