was the case, why not take out more money? He still had more in the account.

No, maybe this was far simpler. Maybe Clu got himself in big trouble. He looked to Myron for help. Myron wasn't there. Clu felt abandoned. He had no one. In desperation he turned to his old friend Billy Lee Palms. But Billy Lee was too messed up to help anyone. He looked again for Myron. But Myron was still gone, possibly avoiding him. Clu was weak and alone, and FJ was there with promises and power.

So maybe Clu didn't have an affair with Esperanza after all. Maybe Clu told her he was leaving the agency and she got upset and then he got upset. Maybe Clu gave her a good-bye smack in that garage.

Hmm.

But there were problems with that scenario too. If there was no affair, how do you explain Esperanza's hairs at the crime scene? How do you explain the blood in the car, the gun in the office, and Esperanza's continued silence?

FJ was still smiling.

"Let's cut to it," Myron said. "How do 1 get you off my back?"

"Stay away from my clients."

"The same way you stayed away from mine?"

"Tell you what, Myron." FJ sipped more shaving cream. "If I desert my clients for six weeks, I give you carte blanche to pursue them with as much gusto as you can muster."

Myron looked at Win. No solace. Scary as it might sound, FJ had a point.

"Esperanza has been indicted for Clu's murder," Myron said. "I'm involved until she's cleared. Outside of that, I'll stay out of your business. And you stay out of mine."

"Suppose she's not cleared," FJ said.

"What?"

"Have you considered the possibility that Esperanza did indeed kill him?"

"You know something I don't, FJ?"

FJ put his hand to his chest. "Me?" The most innocent lamb ever to lie next to a lion. "What would I know?" He finished his coffee whatever and stood. He looked down at his goons, then at Win. Win nodded. FJ told Hans and Franz to get up. They did. FJ ordered them out the door. They went out, heads high, chests out, eyes up, but still looking like a pair of whipped dogs.

"If you find anything that might help me get Clu's contract reinstated, you'll let me know?"

"Yeah," Myron said. "I'll let you know."

"Great. Then let's stay in touch, Myron."

"Oh," Myron said. "Let's."
Chapter 22
They took the subway to Yankee Stadium. The 4 train was fairly empty this time of the day. After they found seats, Myron asked, "Why did you beat up those two mus-cleheads?"

"You know why," Win said.

"Because they challenged you?"

"I hardly call what they mustered a challenge."

"So why did you beat them up?"

"Because it was simple."

"What?"

Win hated repeating himself.

"You overreacted," Myron said. "As usual."

"No, Myron, I reacted perfectly."

"Meaning?"

"I have a reputation, do I not?"

"As a violent psycho, yes."

"Exactly-a reputation that I've culled and created through what you call overreacting. You trade off that reputation sometimes, do you not?"

"I guess I do."

"It helps us?"

"I guess so."

"Guess nothing," Win said. "Friends and foes believe I snap too easily-overreact, as you put it. That I'm unstable, out of control. But that's nonsense, of course. I'm never out of control. Just the opposite. Every attack has been well thought out. The pros and cons have been weighed,"

"And in this case, the pros won?"

"Yes."

"So you knew you were going to beat up those two before we entered?"

"I considered it. Once I realized that they were unarmed and that taking thern out would be easy, I made the final decision."

"lust to enhance your reputation?"

"In a word, yes. My reputation keeps us safe. Why do you think FJ was ordered by his father not to kill you?"

"Because I'm a ray of sunshine? Because I make the world a better place for all?"

Win smiled. "Then you understand."

"Does it bother you at all, Win?"

"Does what?"

"Attacking someone like that."

"They're goons, Myron, not nuns."

"Still. You just walloped them without provocation."

"Oh, I see. You don't like the fact that I sucker-punched them. You would have preferred a fairer fight?"

"I guess not. But suppose you miscalculated?"

"Highly unlikely."

"Suppose one of them was better than you thought and didn't go down so easily. Suppose you had to maim or kill one."

"They're goons, Myron, not nuns."

"So you would have done it?"

"You know the answer to that."

"I guess I do."

"Who would have mourned their passing?" Win asked. "Two scums in the night who freely chose a profession that bullies and maims."

Myron did not answer. The train stopped. Passengers exited. Myron and Win stayed in