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BlackBerry into his jacket pocket.
    â€œWhat in hell are you doing here?”
    I took that as an invitation to walk in.
    Councilman Terry Sloan and I had a spotty relationship. Actually, that was an understatement. We loathed each other.
    I had a problem with slimebags who rode political office to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And he had a problem with me playing his Greek chorus. But Terry was a plugged-in guy, and there was little that went on in the city that escaped his attention. Especially if there was big money involved.
    Martine Toussaint nagged at me like a bad tooth.Maybe she really was doing the Lord’s work. Or maybe she was running a scam and didn’t want me gumming up the works. Or maybe the truth—an interesting word full of tricky shades and meanings—was far different, and had something to do with what I was after.
    So far, Terry was my best shot at narrowing the possibilities.
    â€œTrying to save Dave’s hash,” I said, “and figured you might be able to help.”
    â€œAfter what he did to me?”
    He had a point. Terry and my brother were once real close. But in a completely psychotic moment, Dave drove a fork into Sloan’s thigh for not showing me the proper respect.
    â€œYeah, but think about what he’s done
for
you,” I said.
    â€œThat doesn’t give him the right—”
    â€œYeah, it does. Comes with the Faustian bargain of doing business with Dave.”
    â€œBullshit! I still walk with a limp.”
    If he was looking for sympathy, I was fresh out.
    â€œSmall price to pay, Terry. Let’s be honest. God gave you the brains of your average macaw. But thanks to Dave you’re living the lush life.”
    Terry jumped up from behind the desk, positively vibrating.
    â€œYou don’t know shit about what I went through to get where I am. Now, get the fuck out of here, or I’ll have you thrown out.”
    â€œWhy not start with the piece of the carting businessDave gave you? Or the kickbacks from the developers. Or the ridiculous interest on the hundred large you have on the street. Oh, and let’s not forget your sweetheart arrangement with the longshoreman’s union. Can’t have any of that getting out, can we?”
    Terry went white.
    â€œHow do you …?”
    â€œI’m Dave’s brother, you moron.”
    â€œAre you threatening me?”
    â€œSure.”
    The air went out of him.
    â€œWhattya want?”
    â€œMartine Toussaint.”
    A fine sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead.
    â€œWhat do you want with her?”
    â€œI hear you know her.”
    â€œFrom who?”
    â€œOne of your many admirers.”
    â€œFuck you, Steeg!”
    â€œLet’s get back to Martine.”
    â€œRuns a charity for hookers,” he said.
    â€œShe legit?”
    â€œFucked if I know.”
    â€œNow, Terry, we both know better than that.”
    â€œWhy’re you interested in her?”
    â€œDave’s legal problems.”
    â€œYou think she set the fire?”
    â€œNo. But for now she’s a person of interest for the murders of the men in the basement.”
    â€œThat’s not her business, Steeg.”
    â€œThen what is?”
    â€œWalk away. Best advice I can give.”
    He came around his desk, took my arm, and nudged me to the door.
    I held my ground.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThere’s a set of words that old mapmakers used for really dangerous spots on the ocean.”
    â€œAnd they would be?”
    â€œHere be dragons.”
    â€œYou’re being very elliptical, Terry.”
    â€œStay away from her,” he said. “I’m serious, Steeg, it’s the best advice I can give you.”
    â€œCan’t do that.”
    He shrugged. “Then it’s on you.”
    â€œWhat’s she running out of that brownstone?”
    He flashed me a cold smile.
    â€œYou never learn, do you?” he said.
    â€œActually, I did