THEY WERE HALFWAY through their first course, a salad of French green beans, mushrooms, and bacon.

“Tell us about your fugitive, Holly,” Dino said. “Maybe I can help.”

“That would be nice, Dino,” Holly replied. “First, a little background: Not long ago, I wrapped up a case in my jurisdiction that involved a man named Ed Shine; his history is interesting. He came to the U.S. from Italy, as a teenager, and his original name was Gaetano Costello.”

“Costello?”

“Second cousin to Frank. The mob changed his name to Edward Shine, planted a birth certificate in the county records, and put him through high school and college, ostensibly the son of some people named Shine, who just happened to live in the same apartment building as Mr. and Mrs. Meyer Lansky. Right out of college, Ed starts building office buildings, and he never has any trouble arranging financing; he’s laundering money for the mob. He continues doing this for forty years or so, and very successfully. In the meantime, he’s visiting Florida on a regular basis, and he has a brief affair with a Latino woman and fathers a son out of wedlock, naming the boy Enrico. The kid takes his mother’s maiden name, Rodriguez, and is called Trini.

“Trini Rodriguez grows up his father’s son and is trained in all the little arts required of a Mafia-made man. His favorite is killing people. I thought I had killed him, but he bounced back.”

“Why did you think you had killed him?” Stone asked, putting down his fork.

“Because I stuck a steak knife in his neck and wiggled it around, and he was pumping blood at a great rate the last time I saw him.”

Stone gulped. “And why, may I ask, did you stick a steak knife in his neck?”

“He was trying to kill an FBI agent at the time, and I was trying to stop him.”

“Oh.”

“Apparently, though, his people got him to a hospital in time, and he recovered.”

“Wasn’t he arrested?”

“Yes, but there were complications.”

“He was trying to kill an FBI agent, but there were complications?”

“Right. Turns out Trini had been an FBI informant all the time he was killing people, and the Miami agent in charge, a guy named Harry Crisp, took him out of the hospital and put him in the Witness Protection Program, saying that he needed his testimony in the big case-my case. All this without mentioning it to me, and I wanted the guy for mass murder.”

Dino spoke up. “So the guy you’ve come to New York to find is in the Federal Witness Protection Program?”

“Right.”

“Well,” Dino said, wiping his mouth and taking a sip of his wine, “that’s going to make it just a little difficult to arrest him.”

“Hang on,” Stone said. “You said you wanted him for mass murder?”

“Right. I had a witness in protective custody, and he killed two of her relatives, trying to get at her. She insisted on going to the funeral, and the FBI had the scene covered with lots of agents and a few snipers. I’m up in the church bell tower with one of the snipers when the hearses arrive, and everybody is on maximum alert, looking for somebody with a weapon.

“The coffins are taken out of the hearses and set by the graveside, and my witness walks over, puts a rose on the first coffin and kisses it, then steps over to the other coffin, and, as she kisses it, both coffins explode.”

“Holy shit,” Dino said quietly.

“My sentiments exactly,” Holly replied. “It’s carnage, everywhere you look. More than a dozen people are dead and several dozen injured, some critically. Like I said, I’m in the church tower, and the shock wave from the explosions starts the bell ringing and nearly deafens the sniper and me.”

“So he murders a dozen people, and still the FBI puts him in the Program?”

“Harry Crisp puts him in the Program, and once anybody in the FBI makes a move, they never want to reverse it; makes them look bad, they think.”

“And I’ll bet Crisp still has his job,” Stone said.

“No, thanks to a little work of mine, but he still has a job: He’s the AIC in American Samoa.”

“Samoa?”

“It was the most remote place they could find to send him. The AIC in Miami is now one Grant Early Harrison, who was the FBI guy I was trying to save when I stuck Trini Rodriguez. He was undercover at the time.”

“Well, Grant Early Harrison must be very grateful to you,” Stone said.

“Grateful, but not very. He’s how I know Trini Rodriguez is in the Program and in New York, but he stopped talking to me the moment he realized that I planned to take Trini.”

“So there’s no more help forthcoming from Agent Harrison?”

“None at all, the bastard, and after I got him his job, too.”

“And how did you do that?” Stone asked.

“After this business was over, and Ed Shine and a lot of other people had been arrested, a deputy director of the FBI paid me a visit and asked me for my account of events. I managed to toss a couple of hand grenades into Harry Crisp’s lap, resulting in his getting shipped to the farthest reaches of the Pacific Rim, and I said some very nice things about Grant, which, ultimately, got him the AIC’s job in Miami.”

“I don’t ever want you for an enemy,” Dino said. “You’re not Italian, are you?”

“No, but I’m an army brat, and I put twenty years in, myself, commanding MPs. In the army, you learn how to work the system.”

“Do you learn how to stick a knife in somebody’s throat, too?”

Holly put a hand on Dino’s arm. “Oh, Dino, that’s the first thing they teach you in the army, didn’t you know?”

“Are you armed?” Dino asked.

“No, I didn’t want to deal with the hassle at the airport.”

“You got your badge and your ID with you?”

“Sure.”

Dino reached under the table and fiddled with an ankle, then he put his napkin over something and slid it across the table. “I think you’re going to need this,” he said.

Holly lifted the edge of the napkin and peeped under it. “Oh, Dino,” she said, “a Walther PPK. How sweet of you!”

Stone peeped under the napkin, too. “I’ve got one just like it,” he said.

“That’s yours,” Dino said. “You didn’t think I’d give her my piece, did you?”

“What are you doing with my Walther?” Stone demanded.

“You loaned it to me that time when we did that thing.”

“And you never returned it?”

“Holly will give it back to you after she’s shot Trini Rodriguez a few times,” Dino explained.

Holly slipped the weapon into her handbag and returned Dino’s napkin.

“Swell,” Stone said.

“Holly,” Dino said, “I’ve got a couple of friends on the organized crime task force. I’ll mention Rodriguez’s name and see if anybody has heard about him. Do you know what name he’s using in the Program?”

“No, Grant wouldn’t tell me.”

“It would be a big help if you could find out.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Holly said.

“Let me work on it,” Dino replied.

Their main course arrived, and there was no more talk of Trini Rodriguez.

On the way back to Stone’s house, in a cab, he turned to Holly. “Are you and your friend comfortably situated upstairs?”

“Oh, yes, thank you. The room is very nice.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about sleeping in the same house with somebody who could stab somebody else in the neck.”

Holly patted his knee. “I promise not to stab you in the neck,” she said. “At least not the first night.”

The cab pulled up in front of Stone’s house, and they got out. Stone went to the front door and unlocked it.

“Hang on!” Holly yelled. “I left my purse in the cab!” She ran toward the moving taxi, screaming at it.

Stone watched her catch up and stop the cab, then he turned back and stepped inside his front door. As he did, he heard a sound that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He froze.