“We just saw Mr. Hitchcock walk in. Are you dining with him?” Margaret asked.

“I am!” LeGrue said. “Where is he?” She looked around and saw the director wedging himself into a corner booth. “Listen,” she said, turning to Margaret and placing a hand on her shoulder, “I’m in LA all week. We’re shooting interiors at Universal. Come by, I’ll show you the birds.”

“I’d love to,” said Margaret.

“Call me.” LeGrue took a business card out of her purse, handed it to Margaret, and waved goodbye.

“I don’t know how much either of you are into stargazing,” Goode said, pointing half a shrimp toward a corner booth. “But there’s Natalie Wood and Rita Moreno. Have you seen West Side Story?”

“We did,” said Margaret. She sipped her glass of wine and looked on warily as Charlie knocked back his second bourbon and waved for a third. “Bit of a sore subject.”

“I hate musicals,” Charlie said, slumming with a glass of wine while he waited for the bourbon.

“It’s one of Charlie’s seven defining characteristics, along with his freakishly keen sense of smell,” Margaret said. And his drinking, which was getting higher and higher on the list, she thought.

“Lotta Oscar buzz,” Goode said. “Likely nominations for both of those gals, though it’s also possible Natalie gets a nod for Splendor.” Goode, too, was drinking at a rapid clip and her mind seemed to race; she quietly started humming “Officer Krupke” from West Side Story, which made Charlie wince. And then, maybe reminded by the song, she brought the conversation back to their mission. “So what did the Feds say after you told them what Giancana wanted from Frank?” she asked.

“We don’t talk details on the phone,” Charlie said.

“Ah, right, because Bobby doesn’t trust Hoover,” Goode said. “Isn’t that old queen more or less devoted to bringing down the Mob, just like Bobby is?”

“My guess is Kennedy doesn’t want Hoover to have anything more on his brother than he already does,” Charlie said.

A sudden racket of cheers and applause erupted near the door as Sinatra, Martin, Davis, Lawford, Shirley MacLaine, and several young women Charlie and Margaret didn’t recognize entered the restaurant. As they were ushered toward a large table at the back, Charlie shot Margaret a look. They were caught off guard by the Rat Pack’s appearance, though they felt stupid being so surprised, given that Sinatra and Lawford owned the restaurant. Spotting them sitting there, Davis broke free of the group and approached their table.

“Madame Marder, enchanté,” Davis said, taking her hand and planting a kiss on it.

Charlie stood and shook his hand. “Good to see you again, Sammy.”

Davis smiled and patted Charlie on the shoulder. “We’re toasting the memory of Ernie Kovacs,” Davis said. “Join us when you’re done.” He added pointedly: “You and Margaret.” He sauntered off.