“Why don’t you call him and check?” Joe said.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Valiant’s schedule is very busy.”
Back on the street, Joe stood on the small plaza, under a tree just starting to blaze orange. Early afternoon and people seemed to be on extended lunch breaks, sitting in the sun, tapping at smartphones, eating paper-wrapped takeout.
After a minute he walked back to his truck, drove around the block, and entered the garage underneath the Great Prosperity Building.
On the A level, closest to both the surface and the elevator, Joe coasted slowly, counting. Two Ferraris, five high-end Audis, BMWs, Mercedeses, several Range Rovers … and a single Lamborghini Gallardo, the distinctive rear end unmistakable.
The lawyer had mentioned the model Valiant owned. Before leaving town, three days earlier, Joe had looked through old Car and Driver issues at the library until he’d found it.
“I didn’t even park,” he told the attendant at the exit, “I got a phone call, have to go right back out.”
“Ten minutes.” The attendant was black, with an accent from somewhere far away. He pointed to the sign at the booth. “Five dollars.”
Joe started to protest, then shrugged and dug out his wallet. No reason to attract more attention.
This time there were no good parking spaces on the street. Good thing he’d had the tank filled that morning in New Jersey, at a gas station near the highway motel he’d stayed at. Joe started driving around the block again, taking his time. Sooner or later a spot would open up, one with a nice view of the garage exit. He had all afternoon.
Valiant would have to leave the building eventually.
THE RESTAURANT SEEMED far too crowded, barely room to walk between the tables and people standing two deep at the short bar. Despite some kind of fancy cloth on the walls and a carpeted floor, it was noisy, with constant clatter, chattering, and glassware clinking.
“I’m meeting someone here at eight thirty,” Joe said, glancing at his watch. He’d put on his old jacket and tie, good enough to pass under the dim lamps that barely illuminated a podium at the door.
“Certainly,” said the maître d’. “Care for a drink at the bar?”
“That would be perfect.”
Valiant was already at a small table, a woman probably twenty years younger sitting across from him. Joe had followed the Lamborghini straight here when Valiant left for the day, but Valiant used valet parking, and Joe had to take twenty minutes to find a spot on his own. He didn’t want to leave any more obvious a trail than necessary.
“Seltzer,” he told the barman after jostling his way to the front.
“Fourteen dollars.”
He made the drink last. People drifted in and out. Finally, after a quarter hour, Valiant’s companion stood and made her way to the restroom, in an alcove at the end of the bar.
When she came back out, Joe had maneuvered himself to stand where she had to brush past him.
“Excuse me?” he said, as politely as he could.
“Yes?” Up close she looked even more like someone accustomed to brushing off strange men in bars — flawlessly beautiful, dark eyes, precisely cut hair.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I should even tell you this, but …”
“What?” She was on the verge of pushing through and ignoring him.
“While you were in there? I happened to see your fella — he’s the handsome man in the blue shirt, right? He, well, he put something in your wineglass.”
That got her attention. “Say that again.”
“I’m waiting for my date, she’s coming down with one of her friends, so, you know, I’m just killing time. And I noticed, after you stood up — pardon me, miss, but I noticed you and I hope you’re not offended by that. But after you left, your man, he took something out of his pocket and reached across the table and held it over your drink. Like he was dropping something in.”
A long pause. The woman stared hard at Joe, then even harder at Valiant, who hadn’t noticed her returning yet.
“Are you sure?” she said.
“I’m afraid so. But surely, if he’s a good friend of yours —”
“I met him this weekend at a party.” She made up her mind. “Thank you.”
“Oh, no. Really, I’m sorry.”
“Yes.” And she walked straight out of the restaurant.
Joe finished his seltzer, placed the glass on the bar, and went into the dining area.
“Mr. Valiant?” He pulled out the woman’s chair and sat down. “Mind if I join you for a moment?”
“Wha —”
“Don’t worry, your companion won’t be here for a few minutes.”