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that’s been paid in full?”
    Another waiter came over and removed the plates and brushed the crumbs from the table. There was still wine in the Chianti bottle, and he left the bottle and wine glasses. Harry poured himself some more wine.
    Tony said, with no trace of banter, “What in hell’s wrong with you lately?”
    â€œWhat symptoms have I displayed, Doctor Mitchell?” Harry polished off the contents of his glass and reached for the bottle again.
    â€œYou’ve been living in a world of your own. You think a Lynne Maxwell thing disappears into thin air just because you don’t talk about it? A big loan gets itself paid off and you don’t say one damned word. I was co-maker on that loan, baby, remember? The bank notifies me that it’s suddenly all paid up. I’m curious, so I go over for a little chitchat. Seems it was paid in cash, interest and all, and the note picked up. Didn’t you think I’d learn about it?”
    â€œWell …” Harry drank all the wine in the glass. “There was a man, see, who once owed my father a lot of money and never paid up. This man had been in to see me a few times and, well, I told him about the loan and something of my problems. Seems he’d made a pile—anyway, conscience or something made him pay off the note. I should have explained, Tony, but—hell, I’ve been in turmoil …”
    Tony Mitchell’s eyes were long and oval-shaped, so black that the pupils merged with the irises. They were opaque and gave off a sheen that told nothing. “What man, Harry?” he asked softly.
    â€œI’d rather not say.”
    Tony tapped the top of the espresso pot. The sound of the dripping had stopped. “Check,” he said, and smiled; and then he said, “And the turmoil? Karen?”
    Harry did not reply.
    Tony poured the steaming brew into their cups. “Okay. With a guy like you especially, I dig that. The guilt, the whole bit. Interrogation closed. You’re a close-mouthed bastard, but just remember I’m a friend. For in case.”
    â€œPot calling the kettle black.”
    â€œCome again?” Tony’s chin tilted up.
    â€œI’m close-mouthed and you’re loquacious, a real garrulous guy. But what comes out? Nothing.”
    â€œYou’re losing me, baby.”
    â€œThere’s Karen.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œAnd there’s Karen’s husband.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œYou know them a lot longer than I do.”
    â€œSo? So?”
    â€œYou know what you’ve told me about them?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing, that’s what. A lot of nothing, Tony.”
    Tony sipped his espresso, frowning. “You worried about the old man?”
    â€œShould I be?” Harry looked straight at him.
    â€œNo.” Tony Mitchell returned the look steadily.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause he’s a smart old man. Because he’s a smart old man married to a young wife. So he’s permissive. He lets her run. He lets her enjoy. He’ll never interfere unless it gets wide open, a scandal.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI know the guy.”
    â€œHow well?”
    â€œWell.”
    â€œHow long, Tony?”
    â€œTen years.”
    â€œHow long do you know her ?”
    â€œAbout three. I met her when she was managing a night club in Philly.”
    â€œManaging a night club?” Harry gripped the cup.
    â€œShe never told you?”
    â€œI never asked.”
    â€œWell, then ask. You don’t have to pump me about her. But if you’re worried about the old man, don’t.”
    Harry lit a cigarette, carefully. “Tony. Would you say Kurt could be … dangerous?”
    The black eyes looked curious. “Dangerous?”
    â€œWell, I’m … going with Karen.” What a stupid, callow way to say it. Especially since he had not meant that at all.
    â€œI told you, Harry, he’s