Ted had heard of the Lester guy, but everybody knew Nat King Cole. He did that Christmas album. But Ted now revised his estimate of the man’s age up a decade. Cole had been dead for fifty years or more. “Was your father a musician?”

“No. He sold sheet music. He worked at Colony in the city. On Broadway? It’s gone now. Worked there his whole life almost. He’s long gone now, too.”

Ted was now close enough to notice the combined scents of breath mint and vodka coming off the man. “And you? You work here?”

“I’m semiretired. On a disability. I pick up a little of this and that here. I know the drill.”

“Are you interested in doing a little of this and that for me?”

“I don’t know the kinds of cases you look for, but I’m a quick study. I know the system. It can’t be that much different than doing title. Am I right?”

“Let me walk you through it, and then we’ll see if we can cut a deal.” The whole exchange had been a touch too easy. Lester had been waiting to be found. Not merely for any job but for this one. Ted reminded himself to be cautious until he was entirely sure of the man.

“Sounds like a plan,” Lester said.

They pulled a pair of chairs over in front of an empty computer kiosk. The banks of florescent lights overhead washed out colors so that the ancient green screen appeared a matte black. Ted walked his recruit through the first stages of identifying a potential surplus-money case. Lester took notes and seemed to catch on quickly. Ted used the Barbara Miller property to demonstrate so that the next time he had to speak to Cheryl Rubiano he could truthfully say he had looked into the matter.

The glacial pace of justice flicked across the screen at speed. Motion. Motion Answered. Judgment. Appeal. And so on through to Sent to Auction. It took only a few minutes more to reach the bottom line. Surplus.

“Sweet Jesus, that’s a lot of money,” Lester said when the number appeared on the screen. $1,200,000.

“This case is not my usual thing,” Ted said. “It’s big, for one thing. And I don’t believe in big for its own sake. But it’ll do for training purposes. You’ll pick up my likes and dislikes. I’m not picky, but I am particular.

“But anybody can just come along and claim this?”

“No,” Ted said. “That money belongs to someone. In this case, this Miller lady, if she’s alive.”

“So how do you get paid?”