“One in a million,” Tunney agreed. “Or something like that. And so this man, this old man who lost his wife, the one person in the world he loves more than anyone or anything, is enraged. It’s impossible this has happened like it did. It can’t be an accident. Somehow this dispatcher is at fault. He’s to blame. And he has to be punished.”

I was silent again at this. Tunney was mirroring Wooldridge’s own words to me earlier in the day. “And then what?” I asked Tunney, when I finally remembered to.

“Then the old man who has just lost his wife asks his friend for a favor. A lifetime favor.”

I pointed at Tunney. “So you are involved.”

Tunney shook his head. “You’re not listening. Listen to what I said. The old man asked his friend for a favor. Not the friend’s company. Just his friend.”

“That is a very subtle distinction.”

“It’s very subtle, yes.”

“I’m not sure it’s a distinction law enforcement would care to make.”

Tunney spread his arms wide. “And now you know why we’re here.”

“Can we stop telling stories and get to it, then, Mr. Tunney?”

“Yes, of course.” Tunney leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “Let’s get to it.”

“You’re telling me your dad helped Orval Wooldridge abduct Jimmy Albert because Jimmy failed to dispatch Elaine Wooldridge.”

“Yes.”

“You’re telling me that he did this under his own steam, without using any resources from any of your companies.”

“Yes.”

“And presumably you’re telling me this because somehow you want me to pin this all on Wooldridge and not on your dad.”

“That’s about the size of it, yes.”

“Why?”

“You mean, besides that it’s my Pop and that I love him?”

“Yes.”

Tunney looked shocked. “Isn’t that enough?”

“No. Sorry. I just met you, but. No.”

Tunney smiled at this. “Fair enough. Let’s just say that we have some business with the city coming up that, if the contracts are successful, will allow my family to finally cut ties to anything that might even hint of racketeering. Everything above board, everything legal, everything safely in the realm of the white collar, where even if you do something wrong the worst you get is a fine. We’re done, finito, out. Wooldridge asking my father for a lifetime favor this week has been…inconvenient to these goals.”

“May I be honest with you, Mr. Tunney?”

“Of course.”

“We’re already looking at your company. There’s already a connection. Brodie Calhoun, your employee, is in the morgue.”

“A suicide.”

“Come on.”