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actually,” Keane said.
    “Which is why I call you Captain Ahab,” I said.
    “I’m a dinosaur in this business. I know it. If it wasn’t for these missing kids I’d be long gone to Boca Raton, looking forward to the early bird specials,” Reggie said.
    “You said missing kids.”
    Reggie grinned. “Before this week I called them dead kids. Children you slaughtered for money, and still slept at night. Honestly, I feel better about you now. If it turns out you’re only stashing these kids. . . I can live with it on one hand.”
    “But on the other hand you’d still arrest me.”
    He shrugged and went back to watching the game.
    I wanted to spill my guts. I wanted to tell Keane everything I’d done over the years, and how it wasn’t technically a bad thing. But I knew who he was and he was starting to figure out who I was, and this still wasn’t going to end well. I wasn’t going to be the big hero and turn myself in. Real life didn’t work like that. If I confessed I wouldn’t serve a few months in a cushy country club prison and then walk away like in every bad movie, off to live a quiet life with no regrets and looking like the good guy.
    Real life was hard prison, where I’d be tortured and worse when every millionaire, celebrity and drug lord figured out I took their money without taking out their trash. I’d be dead inside of a week, and the bad guys would fight over who got to make the call for someone to shank me.
    Reggie would turn me in because it was the lawful thing to do, and he obeyed the rules. He’d put aside his own personal beliefs because he was paid to follow the letter of the law, and the only way this worked for him would be if I went to prison.
    “I don’t suppose you want to talk off the record?” Reggie asked.
    “I don’t think you could. You’re the super cop who is always on duty, Reggie. If there was something to confess, do you think I’d really do it? At a baseball game? Please don’t tell me you’re wearing a wire or your phone has the stupid app on it,” I said and held my half-empty beer in the air. He knew the implication: I’d destroy the damn phone if I had to.
    Reggie laughed. “No. This is a semi-social visit. I don’t play games. If I want to talk to you I’ll drag you down to an interrogation room and hold you for a few hours like I always do. I’m done with the game, though. I’m done playing dumb around you and hoping to catch you in a lie. You’re too good at what you do.”
    “I sell baseball cards to people who want baseball cards,” I said.
    “You keep sticking to your story. I’m fine with it, because when I catch you red-handed it will make this sweeter,” Reggie said.
    “Your tone changed. You seem meaner, and I don’t like it. I thought we were enjoying a night out. Just us guys. Why are we always talking shop? Frankly, I was having fun hanging out with you, Reggie,” I said.
    “I’m having fun, too. Which is what makes all of this harder, you know? I actually like you. I’ve been chasing down men like Chenzo for years and when I look them in the face I see nothing but hatred and evil. I don’t see it with you, though. With you. . . I see something more. I know you think whatever it is you’re doing is the right way to do it, but I’m here to tell you to stop. Walk away. Sell your baseball cards and keep making more money than you could possibly spend.” Reggie smiled and looked at my wardrobe. “And, for God’s sake, start dating a woman with some fashion sense. You dress like you’re still in high school.”

FIVE
    “Why didn’t you just tell Keane what was going on? It isn’t like you don’t already have a few FBI guys in your pocket,” Marisa said on the phone. I was standing in the rain, trying in vain to hail a cab outside JFK Airport.
    “It isn’t that simple and you know it. Keane isn’t going to just pat me on the back and let me know I’m doing a wonderful job and offer to buy me another beer. He’ll