“Sorry, Lieutenant,” the guard said, “only federal officers can carry inside the courthouse. You’ll have to check your weapon.” Stone gave the man his Walther and got a receipt, then he walked through the metal detector and into a hallway.

His cell phone vibrated. “Hello?”

“It’s Dino. Elaine’s tonight?”

“Sorry, it’s too long a drive.”

“What?”

“I’m in Santa Fe, New Mexico.”

“What the fuck are you doing way the hell out there?”

“I’m with Holly. It’s the Trini thing; we followed him out here.”

“You’ve gone out of your fucking mind,” Dino said pleasantly. “I mean, I can see fooling around with this thing to get the girl in the sack, but . . .”

“Dino, this has nothing to do with sex.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Well, not much. I share her outrage that the Feds would let this guy take a walk, that’s all, and it worries me that she’s doing this alone.”

“Well, you’re going to worry yourself right into a federal prison, if you’re not careful. Lance told me about your attempt to bust this guy. You’ve been warned off. Why are you still in this?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m getting near the end of my rope. I’m ready to come back to New York.”

“Call me when you get in. We’ll have dinner, and I’ll straighten you out.” Dino hung up.

Stone put the phone away and looked up and down the hallway. No sign of Holly. He found a courtroom and peeked inside. It was half full of people, but there was no judge on the bench, yet. Holly was sitting in the back row of seats. He went in and joined her.

“What’s happening?”

“Trini and two FBI agents are sitting in the first row, behind the prosecutor’s table,” she said, nodding. “The guy at the table must be Byron Miller.”

Stone looked at the two men sitting at the table, their backs to him. “If the U.S. Attorney himself is trying a case, then it has to be an important one.”

A bailiff stood up and shouted the name of a judge, and the crowd stood until he was seated.

“Mr. Miller, call your next witness,” the judge said.

Miller stood up and called Trini, then waited while he was sworn and sat down. “Mr. Rodriguez,” he said, “were you, until recently, a member of organized crime?”

“Yes,” Trini replied. “Until late last year I worked for a family in Florida.”

“By ‘family’ do you mean a Mafia family?”

“Yes.”

“What were your duties?”

“I arranged loans for applicants and took care of collections.”

“Loans from the Mafia family?”

“Yes.”

“Were these loans made to people who could not obtain them from conventional banks?”

“Yes.”

“Were these loans made at very high interest rates?”

“Yes.”

“Was this, in fact, an illegal loan sharking company?”

“Yes, it was.”