Page 33 (1/2)

ONE

The bar at the Ritz-Carlton looks out on the Public Garden and requires a tie I’ve looked out on the Public Garden froe points before, without a tie, and never felt at a loss, butI don’t

My usual taste in clothes runs to jeans and diver’s shirts, but this was a job, so it was their time, not mine Besides, I’d been a little behind on the laundry recently, and my jeans probably would’ve hopped the subway and ot a chance to put them on I picked a dark blue, double-breasted Armani from my closet one of several I received from a client in lieu of cash found the appropriate shoes, tie, and shirt, and before you could say, “GQ,” I was looking good enough to eat

I appraised ton Street There was a bounce to ht twinkle in ht with the world

A young doorether, opened the heavy brass door and said, “Welcome to the Ritz-Carlton, sir” Hewith pride that I’d chosen his quaint little hotel He held his ar ured it out by myself, and before I could thank hi the best cab in the world for some other lucky soul

My shoes clacked with military crispness on the marble floor, and the sharp creases of my pants reflected in the brass ashtrays I always expect to see George Reeves as Clark Kent in the lobby of the Ritz,a smoke The Ritz is one of those hotels that is resilient in its staid opulence: the carpeting is deep, rich oriental; the reception and concierge desks areway station of lounging power brokers toting futures in soft leather attaché cases, Brahmin duchesses in fur coats with iion of navy blue-unifore carts across the thick carpeting with the softest whoosh accompanioing on outside, you could stand in this lobby, look at the people, and think there was still a blitz going on in London

I sidestepped the bellman by the bar and opened the door myself If he was amused he didn’t show it If he was alive, he didn’t show it I stood on the plush carpet as the heavy door closed softly behindthe Garden Three h political pull to filibuster us into the twenty-first century

The youngest, Jim Vurnan, stood and smiled when he saw me Jim’s my local rep; that’s his job He crossed the carpet in three long strides, his Jack Kennedy smile extended just behind his hand I took the hand “Hi, Jim”

“Patrick,” he said, as if he’d been standing on a tar for lad you could make it” He touched my shoulder, appraised ood”

“You asking for a date?”

Jih out of that one, a lot heartier than it deserved He ledMulkern and Senator Brian Paulson”

Jih Hefner” with unco awe

Sterling Mulkern was a florid, beefy ht like a weapon, not a liability He had a shock of stiff white hair you could land a DC-10 on and a handshake that stopped just short of inducing paralysis He’d been state senate majority leader since the end of the Civil War or so, and he had no plans for retireain” He also had an affected Irish brogue that he’d so up in South Boston

Brian Paulson was rake thin, with smooth hair the color of tin and a wet, fleshy handshake He waited until Mulkern sat back down before he did, and I wondered if he’d asked per was a nod and a blink, befitting someone who’d stepped out of the shadows only h, honed by years as Mulkern’s step-and-fetch-it

Mulkern raised his eyebrows slightly and looked at Paulson Paulson raised his and looked at Jim Jim raised his at me I waited a heartbeat and raised mine at everyone “Am I in the club?”

Paulson looked confused Jihtly Mulkern said, “How should we start?”