Ted waved at Lili and, when he got her eye, pointed one finger at Paulie. “Lili’s got your beer.”

“You’re a good man, Johnny. I’ll remember your generosity.” The last word was squeezed into three syllables and ended with a small spray of spittle.

Ted seriously doubted he would.

He could see only part of the street from this vantage point, so he kept his attention split between the door and the view. He didn’t have to wait long. Detective Duran came through the door alone, as promised. Ted let him scan the room before raising one of the IPAs in welcome. Duran eased his way through the melee, squinting against the onslaught of a particularly loud peal of high-pitched female laughter.

“How’s your friend?” he said, once settled across from Ted.

“Still in the induced coma. They’re focusing on bringing the swelling down. Who pulled the guards?”

“Very high up. That’s all I was told.”

“Who could do that?”

“Nobody in the department made that call. This came from outside. Someone with connections.”

A councilman? A major real estate developer? Or a retired judge? Ted felt his anger rising up again.

“I seriously doubt I can help you,” Duran was saying. “But show me what you’ve got.”

Ted stuffed his anger beneath the surface. It could wait. He handed the phone to the detective. “Watch.”

Duran played the video through three times before raising his eyes to Ted. “You know all these people?”

“No. I know who they are, though. Some of them. There’s Cheryl, of course. Pak I’ve seen before. I’m told that’s Reisner’s kid. It would be easy enough to get verification.”

“Too bad you couldn’t get the father on tape,” the detective said. “The head of the biggest real estate development firm in the city would be a nice addition.”

“I’m told the son only speaks when his father okays it in advance.”

Duran was nodding impatiently. “Do you have facial recognition on this phone?”

“Why would I?” Ted asked.

“My daughter’s sixteen. I use it every time I meet one of her boyfriends.” He tapped the keys on Ted’s phone, forwarding the video to his own. When he heard the incoming chirp, he opened an app and let the phone search for matching faces. A minute or two he later he grinned and handed Ted the phone. “Is this your guy?”

It was a younger and thinner version of the fat man from the restaurant. He still had hair, but it was thinning. He had already developed the same pose of smug arrogance. The picture was followed by paragraphs of miniscule type.

“That’s him,” Ted said, straining and failing to read the copy.

“This is why I’m here, isn’t it?” Duran asked. He swiped the screen again and began to read.