He drove through the gates of the farm and presented himself at the reception desk, then waited in a comfortable lounge that reminded him of a hotel he had once stayed in.

Dink appeared a few minutes later, dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, clean-shaven and finely barbered. “Hello, Herb,” he said cheerfully, offering his hand. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I had to wrap up a group therapy session. I’m glad you could come to see me.”

“Oh, I was in the neighborhood,” Herbie replied, shaking the hand. “Have a seat, Dink. We need to talk.”

Dink sat down, crossed his legs, and smiled broadly. “I want to thank you personally for getting me into this place. It has really changed my life, and they tell me I’ll be ready for release in a week or two.”

“You’re entirely welcome, Dink. But what I’m about to tell you is going to change your life again—and again for the better.”

“Well, that sounds great, Herb.”

“Of course, there’s an alternative scenario, but we’ll get to that later. Right now you should know that you’re not getting out of here in a couple of weeks. In fact, I think you’re probably going to be here for the remainder of this year and maybe for the year after, too.”

Dink’s face took on a scowl.

“What are you talking about?”

Herbie took the small recorder from his pocket. “I want you to listen to what Carson Cullers had to say last night.” He switched it on. “She said it to the police, and then she put it in writing.” As Carson began to speak, Herbie switched on his iPad, which began to play his security tape.

Dink listened and watched. “This is bullshit, Herb,” he said.

“Shut up and listen,” Herbie said. When the two tapes had played, he switched on the recorder and put it back into his pocket. “Now, what you’ve just seen and heard is enough to get you five to seven years at a very uncomfortable state institution, a place not nearly as nice as this one.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Dink said. “Carson is making this up. She’s crazy, you know—she has spells where she doesn’t know who or where she is.”

“Those probably come during sessions with the drugs you supply her,” Herbie said.

“And it’s her word against mine. You have no evidence tying me to this.”

“Your old roommate, Parker Mosely, is at this moment having a very long conversation with an NYPD detective lieutenant. I’ll have the recordings of that session for you in a day or two. And your stash of drugs has been located, so we can add another ten years to your sentence for that. You’re going to be well into your middle years before you see the light of day, Dink.”

“I want a lawyer,” Dink said sullenly.

“I’m the only lawyer you’re going to get, Dink. Have you forgotten that you signed a document making me your only legal representative for the foreseeable future? You also made me your legal guardian, upon your self-admission to this facility. Add while you are a patient here, you are, ipso facto, incompetent to change those agreements.”