Interesting, I thought.

In fact, despite arriving in Pod 7N only five minutes ago, I had already come to the conclusion that my chief enemy was not the other detainees but the intense boredom of being detained. After all, unlike a federal prison, where activities are abundant and violence is rampant, a federal detention center is devoid of both activity and violence. They simply bore you to death.

“So there are never any fights here?” I asked Ming.

He shook his narrow head. “Everyone too scared. You face ten year, have fight, now you face twenty. Understand?”

I nodded. Ninety percent of the detainees were awaiting sentencing, so if they got into a fight or otherwise fucked up, the Bureau of Prisons could alert the sentencing judge, who could then sentence them at the high end of the guidelines. “I need to use the phone,” I said tonelessly, rising from the edge of the mattress.

Ming put his hand on my arm. “Hey, you rich guy, right?”

I looked down at him and shrugged. “Why?”

He smiled. “Cause Ming do everything for you: cook, clean, wash clothes, make bed, cut hair. I be like slave.”

I stared at him for a moment in disbelief. “How much?”

“Twenty dollars a week. You pay in stamps from commissary. Give me extra ten dollars, I steal food from kitchen. We eat like kings. I make best orange chicken this side of Chinatown!”

I chuckled. “Sure,” I muttered, “why not?” And I headed for the back of the line.

My first call was to Magnum's home, which, sadly enough, was a number I knew by heart. The news was not good. Alonso was on the warpath: not so much because he was mad at me but because he was mad at the situation and, most of all, he was mad at himself. He had walked into a courtroom unprepared and had paid the price for it. As a consequence, it would be many months before he would go back on my behalf. On top of that, the burden would now be on us to do the investigation—to get affidavits from the pit bosses and casino hosts and the helicopter pilots, as well as Kiley, if I could find her—to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that my trip to Atlantic City had nothing to do with money laundering.

Magnum had already enlisted Bo, who was reaching out to his contacts in Atlantic City. Coleman agreed to help too, although Magnum thought it would be best if we did our own investigation, then presented the facts to Gleeson in the form of an affidavit; this way the judge would know we were serious.

Before I hung up the phone, I found myself doing what all detainees did: I begged my lawyer not to give up on me. “No matter what happens,” I said to Magnum, with my hand cupped over the mouthpiece, “don't stop trying to get me out of here. I don't care how long it takes or how much it costs.”

“I wouldn't stop for any client,” he said warmly, “especially not you. Just hang in there a few months. I'll get you out, buddy.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Were you able to get in touch with Nadine?”

“Yeah, she's fine. Maybe toofine, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” I said gravely. “She's been praying for something like this to happen. It's all the excuse she needs to bolt to California. Did she ask you how long I'd be in for?”

“No, and I didn't bring it up, for that very reason. But I told her to accept collect calls from you, and she promised that she would.”

Well, that's the least she could fucking do!“And what about Yulia?” I asked with a smirk. “She's probably back with her ex-boyfriend by now.”

“I highly doubt that,” said Magnum.

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

“Well, if she's anywhere, she's probably in her psychiatrist's office.”

“What are you talking about? What happened to her?”

“What happenedto her is that she totally flipped out on me! I called her at the hotel, like you said, and when I told her you got remanded—or, should I say, got taken to jail, because she didn't know what remandedmeant—she completely lost it. She started crying hysterically on the phone, and she kept saying, ‘OhmyGods! OhmyGods!’ which, I admit, I found a bit humorous, because she kept using the plural form of God.”

“Yeah,” I said proudly, “she has a tendency to do that.” Suddenly I found KGB's language deficiencies rather heartwarming. “What else did she say?”

“I'm not really sure, because she started speaking in Russian, a mile a minute. Anyway, she's a verybeautiful girl. I can see why they made her Miss Soviet Union.”

“Wait a second: You sawher?”

“Yeah, she showed up at my office unannounced; I guess she must have called information. Anyway, she was shaking uncontrollably. It was pretty scary, actually. Nick was about to call a doctor, but then some guy named Igor showed up and took her away. Do you know who Igor is?”

A shock!“You met Igor?” I felt a twinge of jealousy. Why did Magnum get to meet Igor before I did? Whatever. Curiosity overpowered jealousy, and I said, “What does he look like?”

“Pretty average,” replied Magnum. “Tall, thin, silver hair; about fifty or so. He's very suspicious-looking, like a fox. He has excellent posture.”

“What do you mean, he has excellent posture?”

“I mean,he has excellent posture! The guy stands as stiff as a ramrod. He was probably in the military once.” A brief pause, then: “He probably still is, if you catch my drift.”

There were a few moments of silence as the very obviousness of Magnum's words hung in the air. Then he said, “Anyway, he left a very cryptic message for you—something about you being under his protection now. I have no idea what he meant by that. Do you?”

Under Igor's protection?What was that crazy Russian bastard talking about? “No,” I replied, “I have no idea. I never even metthe guy!”

“Interesting,” said Magnum. “Well, Yulia left you a message too, although it was a bit less cryptic.”

I perked up: “Oh, really? What did she say?”

With a chuckle: “She say she loveyou and she wait as long as it take,even if it takeforever.” More chuckles at KGB's grammar. “I think she was very sincere.”

We exchanged a warm good-bye, then I hung up the phone and headed to the back of the line. There were four people ahead of me, so I had a few minutes to think. Above all, I was astonished at KGB's loyalty. I would have never guessed it, especially after my experience with the Duchess. I had just assumedthat KGB would fly the coop, because that's what the Duchess had done. But, now that I thought about it, KGB's attitude wasn't so astonishing.

Few women would abandon their husbands on the courthouse steps. What the Duchess had done was unconscionable. I knew that I would think that forever. I no longer cared, though, because I was in love with someone else. Where once I had felt betrayed and heartbroken, I now felt angry and apathetic. And, in truth, I wasn't even that angry. I just wanted my kids to remain east of the Mississippi.

The line moved quickly, and my conversation with the Duchess moved even quicker. Magnum had already given her the low-down, and I filled in the missing blanks. Interestingly enough, Magnum had played down the helicopter aspect of the debacle, focusing instead on what had happened with Dave Beall and how it set the stage for the Bastard's revenge. I made a mental note to thank Magnum for that.

In any event, I assured the Duchess that I would be home soon-two months at the most—and, while I didn't say it, my tone of voice so much as said, “So don't be thinking of moving to California anytime soon, lady!”

For her part, both her words and her voice betrayed nothing. She said she was “really sorry” that I had gotten thrown in jail, yet she seemed no more or less sorry than if I had told her that I'd just lost my house keys and was forced to call a locksmith.