“You always could,” said Coop. He looked across the room and saw Sally and Tintin in an intense conversation. Over the last week, Coop had grown used to the idea that he’d taken the DOPS job and that it would keep him close to Giselle. Still, he was going to miss clandestine meetings with Sally and Tintin. Now when he planned a job they’d want him to fill out forms in triplicate. Not that that was ever going to happen.

“I know how you feel,” said Giselle.

“You reading my mind?” Coop said.

“With you it isn’t that hard. You’ll get used to the straight life. I did. And not looking over your shoulder all the time isn’t such a bad feeling.”

“I like being paranoid. It makes even the most boring things interesting. I was once convinced I was being followed by a whole Yakuza army while doing my laundry. It made the spin cycle fly by.”

“Why the Yakuza?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I guess I’ll have to stick around if I want to hear it.”

“Only if you want to hear it.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

There was a knock at the door. Morty opened it and Bayliss came in with a package wrapped in a bow. She walked over, kissed Coop on the cheek, and gave Giselle a big hug.

“Looks like the promotion’s perked you up,” said Coop.

“Yep. I officially got Nelson’s old job. And I got a new partner.”

“Who’s that?”

“Guess,” said a voice in Coop’s head.

“Phil? They gave you Phil?” he said. “Who hates you that much?”

“Hey, I resent that. Tell him,” Phil said.

Bayliss nodded. “It’s not bad having a partner who can do his surveillance right in people’s minds. Plus, he doesn’t eat, so no more of Nelson’s ptomaine tacos.” She held out the package. “Which brings me to this. Consider it an early Christmas present. Open it.”

Coop held up his injured shoulder. “I’m not sure I can yet.”

“I’ll do it for you,” Bayliss said, even as Giselle and Morty said, “You big baby.” She untied the ribbon and took the top of the box off. Inside was a framed photo of a pale man in an ill-fitting suit that was clearly cut for someone else.

“Who is that?” said Giselle. “He looks familiar.”

“It’s Nelson,” said Coop.

Bayliss nodded. “Say hello to the newest mailroom mook.”

Coop took the picture out of the box and put it on Morty’s mantel. “I’ll cherish it always,” he said.

The manta bats flashed by overhead, margarita glasses dangling from their slit mouths. One flew low and handed a drink to Bayliss before flying out the back door.

“I’ve been so out of it these past few days, I never found out what you told Woolrich about the box,” he said.