Critical

"To be truthful," Michael said, in response to Vi

"Oh, really?" Vi

"I'm afraid so," Michael said. His voice had a quavering quality that he hoped only he could hear.

"Carol, honey," Vi

"I'm not finished with my spaghetti," she whined.

"Carol!" Vi

"Oh, all right," Carol responded, throwing her napkin on top of her plate. "But where am I supposed to go?"

"Wherever you like, doll. Freddie or Richie can drive you."

After watching Carol depart, Michael regained his seat and again faced Vi

"I hope this trouble isn't about Angels Healthcare, because if it is, I'm getting a bad feeling," Vi

Michael cleared his throat and was about to speak when the waiter appeared tableside with a steaming plate of spaghetti, a glass, and flatware. Sensing the tension, the waiter quickly laid out the place setting, poured wine into the glass, and disappeared.

"It is about Angels Healthcare," Michael admitted. "Angels Healthcare needs more money to keep the doors open. The problem has been getting rid of the bacteria. The bacteria required shutting the ORs, which turned off the revenue spigot."

"That's the same story I heard a month ago," Vi

"That was my understanding as well, until my ex told me differently an hour ago," Michael said, with the idea of transferring responsibility to her.

"Why didn't it happen?"

"The ORs stayed closed longer than expected, keeping revenue down, and the disinfecting process cost more than expected."

"Are the ORs open now?"

"Yes, but it will take a few weeks for the doctors to trust that the problem is over."

"Is it over?"

"Yes, that's my understanding."

"Your understanding about how much money was needed missed the mark. What makes you think your understanding about the infection problem is any more accurate?"

"I don't know," Michael said with a shrug. "I can only relate what I'm told."

"How much money is needed to get through the IPO?"

"I was told two hundred thousand."

Vi

"Eat!" Vi

Michael wasn't hungry, but he picked up a fork and struggled to twirl a mouthful of spaghetti.

"I'm not at all happy about all this," Vi

"I never expected any of this," Michael said in his defense. "But it's still a great investment. Trust me! I wouldn't have committed your money if it wasn't. I've even hocked just about everything I own to maximize my own position."

"In all honesty, I don't care about your money," Vi

"The money is not going to be lost," Michael said decisively even though he wasn't as sure as he sounded. "Worst case is the IPO is postponed."

"I don't want that to happen, and I'm doing my part. I've already kicked in an extra quarter of a mil. I'm also dealing with the accountant issue."

"You haven't spoken to him?" Michael asked with alarm.

"Oh, I've spoken with him. Even Franco and Angelo have spoken with him."

"He's not being cooperative?"

"I wouldn't say that. I'm absolutely sure he's not going to file. It's just his secretary is an unknown quantity who, unfortunately, has a copy of the potentially troublesome report. It seems we have to talk with her as well."

"I'd never thought of that," Michael admitted. "Good idea!" He was relieved. The last thing he needed was the resurgence of a problem he'd thought had been solved. Although Michael liked doing business with Vi

"The point is, Mikey, I'm certainly doing my part," Vi

"But -" Michael started.

"No buts, Mikey," Vi

Michael tried to swallow but couldn't. His throat had gone dry Instead, he reached for his untouched glass of wine and took a sizable swig.

DETECTIVE LIEUTENANT Lou Soldano looked at his watch. It was almost one-thirty in the afternoon, which explained why his stomach was growling. After leaving the medical examiner's office that morning sometime after eight, he'd driven home to his apartment on Prince Street in SoHo and passed out on his couch. He'd been so exhausted that he didn't even make it into his bedroom.

When he'd awakened at noon, all he'd had was coffee while he shaved and showered. At that point, he'd called the OCME. He was curious about what Jack had found on the two homicides whose autopsies Lou had skipped. Jack was still in the pit and unavailable, so Lou asked to be co

With his stomach growling, Lou began to look for a fast-food outlet. He was in his old PD-issued Chevy Caprice. He had a sentimental attachment to the car as the only co

"My God! Joh

"Some things don't change," Lou murmured philosophically. He was in the familiar environment of Corona in the borough of Queens. Not only had he grown up in the immediately neighboring Rego Park, but when he'd been assigned to the Organized Crime unit of the NYPD, after having been a patrolman for three years, he'd spent a lot of time in Queens, both because he knew the area and because there was a lot of organized crime going on. During the six years he'd spent in the unit, he'd been promoted to sergeant and then to lieutenant when he switched to Homicide.