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off-site. So you foam the camera but you can’t wipe the disk or steal the machine. Problem is, we know where he sends it to. So you’re screwed, and you know why?”
    “Tech?” I ventured as Hacker slid aside a picture of some gauzy flowers, a half-hearted stab at Renoir, probably painted in Southern China, to reveal a good-size flatscreen.
    “Tech. Like this screen. Betcha didn’t know it was there.”
    “You win.”
    Wattles made a restrained raspberry sound. “Show him, Lyle.”
    Hacker took a remote off Wattles’s desk and pushed abutton. The screen lit up. I was looking at the Stennet bedroom. The picture was bright and crisp. I could see the glitter sparkle on the stirrups.
    “High definition,” Wattles said, reading my mind. “Fuckin’ great tech.”
    “It was humiliating enough to do this without having to watch it, too. I don’t want to see it.”
    “Oh, yes, you do. Watch.”
    The door to the bedroom opened. Someone came through it and crossed the room to the Klee. I felt my jaw drop. Looking behind him as though he’d heard a noise, the someone carefully took the Klee down from the wall. He didn’t look at the painting.
    The someone weighed about 275 pounds and had a mop of blond hair like the Little Dutch Boy. He put the painting under one arm and left the bedroom, thoughtfully closing the door behind him.
    I said, “I know people photograph heavy, but that’s ridiculous.”
    The set blinked off and went black.
    “You got a choice,” Wattles said. “Four days from now, Friday afternoon, when Rabbits and Bunny get home from whatever king-size bed they’re taking their vacation on, they’re going to look where that picture isn’t and then they’re going to check the recorder. If you’re a good boy, they’re gonna see a fat guy steal Bunny’s pre-nup. If you’re not a good boy, I hope you’re not afraid of dogs.” He leaned back, slapped the side of his gut, and let the one-syllable laugh loose again.
    “Who was that?”
    The deepset little eyes regarded me for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Name of Ed Perlstein. Works in Saint Louis mostly.”
    “And he stole the—”
    “And put it back,” Wattles said. “About an hour later.”
    I sat back on the couch and wished I were anywhere else.Working as a short-order cook in Denny’s, for example, up to my knuckles in hot fat. Sorting gravel at minimum wage. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”
    “You’re smart,” Wattles said. “Even if you don’t know tech from artichokes. Janice says so. And I needed to put together something you couldn’t dig your way out of.” He leaned forward and put both elbows on the desk. “See, it’s tricky,” he said with the air of someone who’s accustomed to explaining the obvious. “On the one hand, I need a guy who’s smart. Somebody who can figure out which way to jump without having to read the instructions on the box. On the other hand, he’s gonna get told to do something he’s not gonna want to do. A smart guy, he’ll figure a way to get out of it. So what you just seen, it’s like a cage to keep you in as long as I need you.”
    I looked over at Hacker, who made a gun out of his fingers and dropped the hammer. “So tell me,” I said. “Why do you need smart?”
    “Before we get to that,” Wattles said. “Let’s get something right out on the table. Right in the middle, next to this here low-tech ashtray. I
will
give you to Rabbits. I
will
make sure the right burglar is on that hard drive. Shit, I’ll come over for cocktails and watch the dogs eat you.” He flicked a finger at Hacker. “Lyle?”
    “He will,” Hacker said.
    “I will,” Wattles affirmed.
    “You will,” I said. “I’m persuaded.”
    “Good.” Wattles got up. It didn’t make him much taller. He twisted his shoulders a couple of times, reached behind to massage his lower back, and went, “Uuhhhhhh.” Then he put both hands on his belly and followed it to the window. By the time he got there,