“Laura?” she called out.

“Just relax,” her sister said. “You’ll be all right.”

Gloria started to cry. Why hadn’t she killed herself ? Death would have been preferable to letting Laura see what her older sister had become.

David and T.C. had come with Laura. T.C. whipped out his badge, causing the Colombians to scatter in every direction. David destroyed Tony’s video recording.

“You’re going to be all right, Gloria,” Laura said through her tears. She held her sister tightly. “I’m going to help you now.”

Gloria raised her head. “Now, if you want me to leave, I’ll understand.”

What a fucking story! Stan thought. It gave him another goddamn hard-on! Stan moved toward her. “Don’t you understand, Gloria? None of that matters to me. I’m happy you want to be open with me, but that’s all in the past now. You don’t have to keep apologizing for it. It’s the Gloria I know now that I care about. And I have something of a past myself. To be honest, I’m still not all I seem to be. But I’m trying. I really am. Will you help me, Gloria? Will you let me help you?”

THEY made love again and then Stan got dressed. He looked over at her body and felt Mr. Happy start to stir yet again. Never had he been this horny for a chick’s body. He had had plenty of women in his day but he had never seen a body like this. Soft skin, curvaceous and supple, flat stomach, and of course, the kind of breasts men fantasized about. There was only one thing that could arouse him more: Laura.

But that conquest would come in time. Right now he had to be careful with Gloria. Christ, what a story, he thought again. Talk about Miss Instability 1989. Stan didn’t want to take the chance of letting Laura know about him laying her sister, so he had convinced Gloria not to tell anyone.

“Just for a little while,” he assured her. “It’s a superstitious thing with me. I’m afraid if we tell the world, something bad will happen.”

She had bought it. And besides, Gloria made an ideal safety valve in case something went wrong or if he needed another score. She had plenty of dough of her own.

They headed out of the hotel together. When they reached the street, Stan faced her. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Gloria nodded, her face beaming.

He bent down and kissed her passionately.

ACROSS the street, a jogger wearing an Adidas sweatsuit watched the kiss from behind his zoom lens. He snapped a few more pictures, and then he picked up the phone and dialed.

“What have you got?”

“He and Gloria Ayars just left,” he replied. “They appeared rather chummy.”

“Keep following Baskin.”

“Okay, but I want to know what this is all about.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just keep following him and call in if he does anything unusual.”

The jogger shrugged. “Whatever you say, T.C.”

THE phone buzzed.

“Yes, Estelle.”

“John Bort is here to see you.”

“Send him in.”

John Bort opened the door. “You wanted to see me, boss?”

“Yes, John. Come in.”

“Something wrong with the security?”

“No, not at all,” Laura assured him.

“This place is wired better than Fort Knox, you know.”

“You’re doing a super job, John. Please have a seat.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“You can call me Laura.”

“I prefer boss.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

Laura tilted back her chair. “You used to work for the FBI, right?”

“Thirty-three years with the agency,” he replied.

“So you’ve seen it all in your time.”

“Just about. What’s this all about, boss?”

“My question deals with a bank transaction.”

“Huh?”

“Let me give you a hypothetical situation,” she continued. “Suppose a large sum of money vanished—”

“Large amounts of money just don’t vanish, boss.”

“True. Let’s suppose a man transferred this large sum to Switzerland and they transferred it elsewhere. Now the man dies and there is no way to track down the money. What would you do?”

He thought for a moment. “I’m not sure, boss. The man probably wanted to hide his money. Could be that he was afraid someone was after it—you know, a relative or something—and he wanted to make sure they couldn’t get their hands on it. Or it could be that he had a mistress someplace and he wanted to take care of her without the family knowing about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s say he knew he was going to die, right? His family would have a claim to the money. But he wants to leave a certain amount to somebody else without letting his family in on what he’s doing.”

“Pretty far-fetched.”

“True enough, but I know a couple of guys who did it. Hell, if you think that’s far-fetched, you oughta hear about the case in nineteen seventy-two that was like this.”

“What happened?” Laura asked.

John Bort adjusted himself in the chair. “This big in- former dies in a fire right before giving his testimony. Arson. Knocked off by the mob, we figured. But something is weird: his money vanishes. Well, my partner and I check it out, check all over, but we can’t locate the funds. Guess what happens.”

“What?”

“Two years later the same informer turns up dead . . . again! The son of a bitch hid all his money and then faked his own death! And we fell for it! He moved his money to Ireland and was living there under an assumed name all that time. And we never knew. Unfortunately for him, the mob didn’t fall for it. Somehow, they managed to find him.” John sat back with a smile and shook his head in disbelief. “Ain’t that the weirdest thing you ever heard?”

Laura did not respond. She was already dialing T.C.’s number.

THE patient pushed the barbell over his head.

“That’s enough for today,” the nurse said.

The patient lowered the bar and shook his head. “Not by a long shot.”

“You’re going to overdo it.”

The patient struggled and the bar went over his head. He was a bit out of shape but not nearly as bad as he feared. “No chance.”

“You are being very stubborn.”

The patient performed two more repetitions. “I’ve been cooped up in that goddamn bed for too long. I need to do a little exercise.”