Saul Lennick sat in the library of his home on Deerfield Road, on the grounds of the Greenwich Country Club.

He had Puccini’s Turandot on the sound system. The opera put him in the right mood, as he was going over the minutes of the most recent board meeting of the Met that he’d attended. From his leather chair, Lennick looked out at the expansive garden in back, tall trees, a pergola leading to a beautiful gazebo by the pond, all lit up like a colorful stage set.

His cell phone trilled.

Lennick flipped open the phone. He’d been awaiting the call.

“I’m back,” Dietz said. “You can rest a little now. It’s done.”

Lennick closed his eyes and nodded. “How?”

“Don’t worry your buns off how. It seems that your old friend Charlie had a penchant for the late-night swim.”

The news left Lennick relieved. All at once the weight he’d been carrying seemed to rise from his tired shoulders. This hadn’t been easy. Charles had been his friend. Saul had known him twenty years. They’d shared many highs and lows together. He’d felt sadness when he first heard the news after the bombing. Now he just felt nothing. Charles had long ago grown into a liability that had to be written off.

Lennick felt nothing—other than a frightening new sense of what he was capable of.

“Were you able to find anything?”

“Nada. The poor bastard took it to the grave, whatever he had. And you know that I can be highly persuasive. We searched his boat from top to bottom. Ripped out the fucking engine block. Nothing.”

“That’s okay.” Lennick sighed. “Maybe there never was anything. Anyway, it was due.” Perhaps it was just a fear. Survival, Lennick reflected. It’s truly astounding what one can do when it becomes threatened.

“There may still be a problem, though,” Dietz said, breaking into his thoughts.

“What?” The detective, Lennick recalled. Now that he was back.

“Charles met with his wife. Before we were able to get to him. She and the cop, they found him.”

“No,” Lennick agreed sadly, “that’s not good.”

“They talked for a couple of hours on this island. I would’ve tried to do something down there, but the local cops were all over. He knows about both accidents. And Hodges. And who can guess what your boy Charles may have said to her?”

“No, we can’t let that linger,” Lennick concluded. This was something he had let fester far too long. “Where are they now?”

Dietz said, “Back here.”

“Hmmph…” Lennick had gone to Yale. In his day he’d been one of the youngest partners ever at Goldman Sachs. Now he knew the most powerful people in the world. He could call anybody, and they would take it. He had the fucking secretary of the treasury on his speed dial. He had four loving grandkids….

Still, when it came to business, you couldn’t be too careful or too smart.

“Let’s do what we have to do,” Lennick said.