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of a smiling college grad, in a navy robe with a cap and gown, holding a diploma, a very handsome young man.
    It was decided that Beech would work on the new story for a few days, then write a rough draft of the next letter to Curtis. Beech was Ricky, and at that moment their little tormented fictional boy was writing his tales of misery to eight different caring souls. Justice Yarber was Percy, also a young man locked away for drugs but now clean and nearing release andlooking for an older sugar daddy with whom to spend meaningful time. Percy had five hooks in the water, and was slowly reeling them in.
    Joe Roy Spicer didn’t write very well. He coordinated the scam, helped with the fiction, kept the stories straight, and met with the lawyer who brought the mail. And he handled the money.
    He pulled out another letter and announced, “This, Your Honors, is from Quince.”
    Everything stopped as Beech and Yarber stared at the letter. Quince was a wealthy banker in a small town in Iowa, according to the six letters he and Ricky had swapped. Like the rest, they’d found him through the personals of a gay magazine now hidden in the law library. He’d been their second catch, the first having become suspicious and disappearing. Quince’s photo of himself was a snapshot taken at a lake, with the shirt off, the potbelly, the skinny arms, the receding hairline of a fifty-one-year-old—his family all around him. It was a bad photo, no doubt selected by Quince because it might be difficult to identify him, if anyone ever tried.
    “Would you like to read it, Ricky boy?” Spicer asked, handing the letter to Beech, who took it and looked at the envelope. Plain white, no return address, typed lettering.
    “Have you read it?” Beech asked.
    “No. Go ahead.”
    Beech slowly removed the letter, a plain sheet of white paper with tight single-spaced paragraphs produced by an old typewriter. He cleared his voice, and read: “ ‘Dear Ricky: It’s done. I can’t believe I did it,but I pulled it off. I used a pay phone and a money order so nothing could be traced—I think my trail is clean. The company you suggested in New York was superb, very discreet and helpful. I have to be honest, Ricky, it scared the hell out of me. Booking a gay cruise is something I never dreamed of doing. And you know what? It was exhilarating. I am so proud of myself. We have a cabin suite, a thousand bucks a night, and I can’t wait.’ ”
    Beech stopped and glanced above his reading glasses halfway down his nose. Both of his colleagues were smiling, savoring the words.
    He continued: “ ‘We set sail on March tenth, and I have a wonderful idea. I will arrive in Miami on the ninth, so we won’t have much time to get together and introduce ourselves. Let’s meet on the boat, in our suite. I’ll get there first, check in, get the champagne on ice, then wait for you. Won’t that be fun, Ricky? We’ll have three days to ourselves. I say we don’t leave the room.’ ”
    Beech couldn’t help but smile, and he somehow managed to do so while shaking his head in disgust.
    He continued: “ ‘I am so excited about our little trip. I have finally decided to discover who I really am, and you’ve given me the courage to take the first step. Though we haven’t met, Ricky, I can never thank you enough.
    “ ‘Please write me back immediately and confirm. Take care, my Ricky. Love, Quince.’ ”
    “I think I’m gonna vomit,” Spicer said, but he wasn’t convincing. There was too much to do.
    “Let’s bust him,” Beech said. The others quickly agreed.
    “How much?” asked Yarber.
    “At least a hundred thousand,” said Spicer. “His family has owned banks for two generations. We know his father is still active in the business, so you have to figure the old man might go nuts if his boy gets outed. Quince can’t afford to get booted from the family gravy train, so he’ll pay whatever we demand. It’s a perfect situation.”
    Beech was already