"Well, everything turned out okay. So he shouldn't be-"

"Look, he's still backing us isn't he? He's over it."

Vince grunted. "s.h.i.t, the way things are going, that might have been our best shot to get Gillette."

"He's like a d.a.m.n cat," Tom agreed. "It's like he's got nine lives or something."

"Yeah, and we've only taken a few shots at him so he's got a lot more left." Vince turned to look at his brother. "The guy Stiles's people killed today on Park Avenue-any way at all he can be linked to us?"

"No," Tom said firmly. "It was all in cash between us, and there were no relationships between him and anyone at our firm. I checked before I hired him." He chuckled. "Besides, the cops aren't buying Stiles's explanation that it was a hit gone bad. They think it was a case of road rage. Some woman at the scene told the cops she saw the whole thing. That the guy driving Gillette's car cut our guy off. That the guy jumped out of the car screaming and yelling with a gun right after he got cut off." Tom laughed harder. "Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good. I can guarantee you our guy wasn't screaming and yelling."

"Why would the woman lie like that?"

"Who the h.e.l.l knows? Maybe she liked the attention she was getting from the cops."

"What about cell phone calls?" Vince asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Did he ever call you on his cell?"

"Never. Always used a pay phone and a prepaid calling card."

"You can't be sure of that."

"I'm sure, Vince. When he called, the area codes that came up on my caller ID were always from the cities he was in. And, even if on the off chance he did call me on a cell phone once or twice, so what? What does that prove?"

"Did he talk to you right before he tried to kill Gillette?"

"No. It was the day before."

Vince took a deep breath. "Good."

Tom scanned the area. There was a woman with a baby carriage sitting on a bench fifty feet away. She was definitely out of earshot as long as he kept his voice down. "Look, we've got to get Gillette, and we've to do it fast. You agree?"

Vince nodded.

"And at this point I'd feel better if I called in someone I had complete faith in. I know it's risky. I know it could link us, but we don't have any choice."

"Who are you thinking about?" Vince asked.

"Dominick," Tom answered immediately. "He's the best."

Vince looked out over the harbor for a few moments, then finally nodded. "Yeah, call him."

Cohen emerged from the Clark Street subway station into bright sunlight and glanced at his watch. One fifteen. He was early, but he wasn't familiar with Brooklyn Heights so being early was good. He had no idea how far the walk was.

"Excuse me," he called to a woman pa.s.sing by.

"What?" she snapped.

"Which way is the promenade?"

She pointed. "That way. Just keep walking. You can't miss it."

Mason sat down in front of Strazzi's desk. As usual, Strazzi was smoking a big fat cigar. Mason hated smoke, especially cigar smoke. "h.e.l.lo, Paul."

"Mr. Strazzi."

Mason's eyes flashed to Strazzi's. Yesterday, Strazzi hadn't wanted that. "Huh?"

"Call me 'Mr. Strazzi' today."

"Why?"

"Because I feel like it."

Strazzi was certifiable. Mason already sensed that others at Apex thought the same thing but weren't willing to say so because they were afraid they were being listened to. Mason had heard rumors about the office being bugged. But Strazzi was paying him $3 million in salary. Guaranteed for one year, thanks to the employment contract he had signed yesterday. If Strazzi wanted to be called 'Buddha,' so be it. "Um, okay, Mr. Mr. Strazzi." Strazzi."

Strazzi took a long drag off the cigar. "It's time for you to earn that big salary I'm paying you, Troy."

"I thought I already was."

"Do you enjoy Vicky, boy?"

Mason glanced up, his head suddenly pounding. He and Vicky had gone to the Parker Meridian Hotel three times this week: two lunches and once after work. "What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"You know exactly what I mean. You and Vicky are s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g like rabbits." Strazzi was smiling broadly behind his cigar. "I bet your wife would go ballistic if she found out you were banging a secretary." Strazzi laughed harshly. "After less than a week here, too. Nice, Troy."

So p.i.s.sed off she'd leave him immediately, Mason knew. Melissa had already told him if there was one more incident, she was gone. And that she'd pry as much out of him as the flamethrower lawyer she hired could pry. Running up big legal bills in the process. "Mr. Strazzi, I don't-"

"Don't waste my time, Troy." Strazzi tapped the cigar on the round ashtray. An inch-long ash tumbled to the gla.s.s. "I know what's going on, but your secret's safe with me. I just want information."

"Information?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of information?"

"About the Everest portfolio companies."

Mason tugged at his collar. "What about them?"

"I need to know where the problems are."

"Problems?"

"The dirty laundry, boy," Strazzi said, exasperated. "Every private equity firm has problems in the portfolio. I want to know about Everest's."

Mason gazed over the desk at Strazzi. He should have guessed. This was the real reason he'd been hired. "Why?"

Strazzi shook his head. "That's a need-to-know issue, and you don't need need to know." to know."

Strazzi was trying to cripple Gillette's attempt to raise a new fund. That had to be the objective, Mason thought to himself. He took a deep breath. What the h.e.l.l. He didn't have any loyalty to Everest. Donovan was gone, and he hated Gillette. The p.r.i.c.k had tried to ruin him. "I might be able to tell you a few things."

"I need more than that, Troy. I need hard data. I need proof. I need files."

"I can't get into Everest." Mason sensed an opportunity here. He'd made copies of several files the day after the chairman vote had taken place. "I've been barred from the place permanently. I can't get to the files."

"Use your imagination."

"Why don't you use your rat at Everest?" Mason suggested, certain Strazzi had already tried that. But those files were locked up tight. The Everest chairman and the other person on the board were the only ones with access. Which was why they were having this conversation. "Wouldn't that be easy?"

Strazzi's eyes narrowed. "You know d.a.m.n well my rat rat can't get to all the files." can't get to all the files."

All the files. Strazzi had said the files. Strazzi had said all all the files. Which meant his rat could get to the files. Which meant his rat could get to some some of the files. Which also meant his rat was at least a managing director, not some low-level a.s.sociate. Only managing directors and above sat on boards. of the files. Which also meant his rat was at least a managing director, not some low-level a.s.sociate. Only managing directors and above sat on boards.

"I might be able to help you out," Mason said, thinking about the file copies locked up in the wall safe in his apartment. "But I want a million bucks."

"Why should I do that?"

"Gillette gave me a million to leave Everest, but I had to sign a separation agreement to get it. One of the terms of the agreement was confidentiality. According to the agreement, I can't convey anything to anyone about the Everest portfolio unless a court makes me do so. I'd be taking a big risk telling you these things."

"You and I both know it would be almost impossible for Gillette to prove anything in court."

"Still."

"I could tell your wife about Vicky if you don't help me."

"What good would that do? Then I definitely won't get you anything." Mason paused. "A million dollars, Mr. Strazzi. It's pocket change for you."

Strazzi said nothing for a few moments, then nodded. "Okay." He eased back in his chair. "Now give me a taste."

"What do you mean?"

"Give me an idea of what kind of problems Gillette has on his hands."

A little preview wouldn't hurt. And he wasn't going to give Strazzi enough to figure anything out on his own. "Everest owns a waste management company."

"Regent Waste. I know that."

Strazzi had done his homework. Of course, you didn't get to be worth $5 billion being unprepared. "One of their landfills has bad contamination problems. The EPA doesn't know."

"Which landfill is it?"

Mason shook his head. "You can read that in the file. After I get my million."

"Half a million now," Strazzi said, "half a million when I have the files."

Mason thought about it for a moment. "All right."

Strazzi took another long puff from the cigar. "What else is there?"

"We-" Mason interrupted himself. "I mean, Everest Everest owns a records management company in California. Drivers licenses, credit histories, employments records. There's an issue there, too. Again, government agencies haven't been informed." owns a records management company in California. Drivers licenses, credit histories, employments records. There's an issue there, too. Again, government agencies haven't been informed."

"Good." Strazzi smiled. "Half a million will be in your account by close of business today. And I want the files on my desk by seven tomorrow morning. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Say, 'Yes, sir' to me, Troy."

Mason swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

Strazzi pointed at Mason with the cigar. "If you try to run with my money, my people will find you. And it won't be pretty when they do."

Cohen sat on one end of the bench looking out over New York Harbor at Lower Manhattan. "h.e.l.lo, Tom."

McGuire sat at the other end of the bench, ten feet away. "h.e.l.lo, Ben." He didn't look in Cohen's direction either.

"I understand your meeting with Gillette didn't go well," Cohen began.

"Nope. He wouldn't budge. Wouldn't even consider 300 million for McGuire & Company."

"It's because we've got investment bankers telling us they can get five hundred."

"I know."

Cohen continued looking straight ahead. "And Christian was smart enough to hire Stiles. He didn't like you being in charge of his personal security while you were trying to buy the company back. He figured that if he p.i.s.sed you off, you might tell your boys not to be as diligent as they otherwise would be."

"Did he actually say that to you?" McGuire wanted to know.

"In so many words."

"f.u.c.ker."

"Smart f.u.c.ker." Cohen chuckled. "I told him I'd never really trusted you or Vince."

"Thanks a lot."

"Hey, you're the one who said there couldn't be any proof of connections when this was done. I thought it was a nice touch."

"I did say that. And it was was a nice touch," McGuire added. "Look, you've got to make sure Gillette doesn't sign a deal with the investment bankers before we can get this in motion." a nice touch," McGuire added. "Look, you've got to make sure Gillette doesn't sign a deal with the investment bankers before we can get this in motion."

"All you have to do is execute on your end and there won't be a problem, but you're starting to make me think Christian is untouchable. Our guy is getting very frustrated. When we first decided to start this, I told him you were the best. I sold him hard on you. Now he's wondering. First, you guys blow up that limousine in front of the church, and, second-"

"Hey," McGuire broke in angrily, "you told me I had a green light."

"I also told you I wanted to know before you made any attempts on Christian's life. Christ, Christ, I would have been killed in that explosion, too." I would have been killed in that explosion, too."