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audit is not impossible."
    "Yikes," I said.
    Pale Fingers and the blond guy looked at each other. Pale Fingers shrugged. The blond guy shrugged back. Pale Fingers stood.
    "You'll hear from us again," he said.
    "Oh good," I said. "I hate when friendships sour."
    We all looked at each other for a moment. None of us seemed scared. When they left, I made myself a fresh drink and went around behind my desk and reclaimed my chair. I put my feet up and looked at the open door into the bright, empty hallway, and thought.

16
    I met Epstein for breakfast in a coffee shop near his office. He was there when I arrived, sitting at a table, drinking coffee.
    "Get a couple of these inside you and the day looks better," he said.
    A waitress brought me orange juice and coffee. I drank the juice, put cream and sugar in my coffee, stirred, and had a sip. Epstein was right. Orange juice and coffee never let you down.
    "This conversation going to be long enough so we should eat?" I said.
    "We'd be fools not to," Epstein said.
    I had a raspberry scone. Epstein had two eggs sunny-side up, bacon, home fries, and a bagel.
    "Maintaining the old cholesterol?" I said.
    "Except for the bagel," Epstein said. "The bagel's a gesture toward my heritage."
    "On that basis, I should have had the potatoes," I said.
    "You want to know why I offered to buy you breakfast?" Epstein said.
    "I figured you wanted some law enforcement tips."
    "That too," Epstein said. "But I been thinking about your old murder case."
    "Emily Gordon," I said.
    "Yes. I was thinking it might help matters a little if you knew the name of the agent in charge of the investigation."
    "There was an investigation?"
    "Well, we normally look into bank robberies."
    My scone had a light brush of frosting on the top, which seemed to me an excellent touch.
    "So who looked into this one," I said.
    "Of course," Epstein said, "I am not at liberty to give you his name."
    "Of course," I said.
    "On the other hand, if you were to bribe me by paying for breakfast, simple courtesy would mandate some sort of response."
    "Breakfast is on me," I said.
    "Agent's name is Evan Malone."
    "He still around?"
    "He's retired," Epstein said.
    "You know where he is?"
    "Of course."
    "What do I do for his address."
    "I may need a second bagel," Epstein said.
    "Jesus, you're hard," I said. "No wonder you got to be SAC."
    "Do I get the bagel?" Epstein said.
    "Yes."
    "Malone's on a lake in New Hampshire. I took the liberty of writing it out for you."
    "You knew I'd cave on the second bagel, didn't you?"
    Epstein smiled. I took the address and put it in my shirt pocket.
    "I'm willing to go as high as a dozen bagels," I said. "But I need to ask you a question."
    Epstein nodded gravely and spread his hands in a welcoming gesture.
    "You send a couple of employees around to talk with me last night?"
    Epstein frowned.
    "Employees?"
    "Geeky-looking guy with big, round glasses and a lot of teeth," I said. "Blond guy, heavyset, big mustache."
    "Employees," Epstein said.
    "That's what they told me."
    "They said they were with the Bureau?"
    "Government," I said. "I inferred Bureau."
    "Inferred? What kind of talk is that for a guy your size?"
    "Large, but literate," I said. "They yours?"
    Epstein shook his head. "Not mine," he said. "What did they want?"
    "For me to leave Emily Gordon alone."
    "The thirty-year-old murder."
    "Twenty-eight."
    Epstein nodded and looked around for the waitress. When he caught her eye, he gestured for more coffee. She came and poured some for both of us.
    "Could I have another bagel?" Epstein said to her. "Toasted, with a shmeer?"
    "You want that with cream cheese?" she said.
    Epstein smiled. "Yes."
    The waitress hurried off.
    Epstein said, "They show you any ID?"
    "No."
    "So you don't know they were government?"
    "No."
    "But we know they were somebody, and somebody doesn't want you investigating the death of Emily Gordon."
    "Or the whole case," I said. "It may not be Emily Gordon per se."
    "Could be," Epstein