LANCE AMBLED INTO the kitchen, dressed in a yellow cashmere turtleneck, a tweed jacket, cavalry twill trousers, and short alligator boots. He might have been a visiting movie star. Introductions were made, and he sat down. Daisy walked over and sniffed him. Lance scratched the top of her head, then ignored her.

“What’s up?” Lance asked.

“The Feds are all over us,” Stone said. “Followed us up to Connecticut yesterday. They’re camped outside right now.”

“Well,” Lance drawled, “I guess they take exception to Holly’s trying to arrest their man.”

“Their murderer,” Holly said.

“Or is there some other reason they’d be interested in the two of you?” Lance asked.

“You take that one, Holly,” Stone said.

“Oh, a guy I went out with a few times works for them, followed me up here.”

“You were living with him,” Ham said.

Holly turned beet red. “Herbie was here when we got back,” she said, looking for cover.

Lance permitted himself a small groan. “Stone, I wish you’d take charge of your client.”

“He’s not my client anymore, Lance. You shipped him off to Saint Thomas, remember?”

“Except he didn’t ship.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Where did he go?”

“I gave him some money and told him to go to his mother’s place, in Brooklyn.”

Holly laughed. “Stone told him they’d never think of looking for him there. I think he bought it.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about our Herbert,” Lance said, “it’s never to expect him to do as he’s told.”

Ham nodded. “I know the type.”

“You’re ex-army,” Lance said.

“Yep.”

Lance regarded him coolly for a long moment. “I read your service record,” he said.

Ham evinced mild surprise. “Did you, now?”

“I did. You want to shoot somebody for me?”

“Who’d you have in mind?”

“Herbie.”

Ham chuckled. “I can see why, but he doesn’t seem to be a threat to national security just yet.”

“Would you shoot him if I told you he was?”

“I wouldn’t believe you if you told me he was.”

“Why not?”

“Because I think I know who you work for, and folks in your line of work tell the truth on only the rarest occasions.”

Lance laughed. “You judge us too harshly, Ham. But then, you’ve had some experience with us, in Vietnam.”

“I have.”

“I was too young for that godawful mess,” Lance said, “and I’m glad of it. But you shouldn’t judge us now for how we operated then. You might find some satisfaction in working with us again.”

“Lance is recruiting,” Stone said.

Ham shook his head. “No, thanks. You want somebody shot, you do it yourself.”

“I was speaking metaphorically before,” Lance said.

“No, you weren’t,” Ham replied.

Stone was proud of him.