Among Thieves

Fi

“Good,” Lissa said. She looked at Fi

“I guess.”

“Good. Then, when we’re all ready, I’ll take us to di

“You don’t need to,” Fi

“On what? Ketchup? I’ve seen your refrigerator.”

“I’ve got more than ketchup,” Fi

“Yeah? What else?”

“Mustard and relish,” Sally answered before Fi

“Did you check the cupboard?” he asked.

“I’ll make some reservations,” Lissa said. “An hour?”

Kozlowski was walking back into the office from the hallway. His hair was tousled but dry. “What’s in an hour?”

“Di

“What’s the occasion?”

“Just thought everyone could use a good meal,” Lissa said.

“Ah,” Kozlowski said knowingly. “Someone looked in Fi

“It wasn’t pretty,” Sally said.

“I think I liked you better when you were less grateful and more sullen,” Fi

“An hour,” Lissa said again. Fi

Liam sat in a rented van parked on the square a half block down from Fi

The woman showed up with the girl about a half hour after he’d settled in with the paper and a cup of coffee. When he saw them enter the brownstone, he double-checked the address. They looked like a mother and daughter, but that didn’t fit with his information.

The two men arrived twenty minutes later. It was clear which one was the lawyer. The younger one was thin and tall, and dressed in an expensive suit. He carried a leather case with him, and he had a serious look on his narrow face. The man with him looked nothing like a lawyer. He was solid and older, and his thin overcoat flapped around the calves of his cheap slacks. He moved deliberately, and his head swung from side to side, taking in everything around him. He reminded Liam of many survivors of the troubles on both sides. They were quiet, serious men. They were the men he worried about coming up against.

He’d done enough background to identify the adults. Fi

The girl was a surprise. Liam didn’t like surprises. Her presence at the office might mean nothing. She might be a niece or the daughter of a friend who had errands to run. And yet he had this feeling-an intuition-that there was more to it than that. A lifetime had taught him never to ignore his intuitions. Very often they came from that deep spot in the brain that noticed something the conscious mind had missed. He’d learned that paying attention to his intuition could save his life.

He leaned back into the car seat to mull things over. Information was the most valuable commodity in any profession; more so in Liam’s than others. It was clear that he needed more of it now.

The restaurant was a huge family-style place in Charlestown. Only a glass partition separated the diners from an open kitchen with wood-burning stoves. The patrons could watch their meals being prepared, and it gave the place a sense of intimacy. It was the kind of restaurant that required co

The four of them were sitting at a table near the middle of the restaurant. It was a big, round, heavy oak slab, finished unevenly to maintain the rustic feel of the place. It could have seated eight, and with just the four of them, they had to keep their voices up to hear each other over the din.

Not that it mattered through much of the evening; the conversation was spotty. Fi

“How was school?” he asked at one point, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled over the table.

Sally looked up, surprised. “It sucked,” she said after a moment.

“Why?” Fi

“It’s school. School sucks.”

“What sucks about it?” Fi

She twirled some pasta onto her fork and stuffed the mess into her mouth. “You really wa

“Yeah,” Fi

“Eighth,” she said.

“Okay, eighth grade,” Fi

“Not really,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because the kids are assholes. Why would I want more assholes in my life? I got all I can handle.”

Fi

Sally laughed. “It’s an i

“Do you learn anything?”

She shrugged. “I learn what I want to learn.”

“What’s that?”

She pushed the food around on her plate. “I like reading,” she said at last. “English class is okay. The teacher is a joke, but I like the books.”

“What are you reading?”

“Right now? The Adventures of Huckleberry Fi

“Good book. You like that one?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

She looked him in the eye. “Because he’s a kid and he takes care of himself. He doesn’t need other people to survive and he doesn’t take any shit.”

The table went silent for a moment. She put her fork down on her plate, and it made a sharp, definitive noise-like an exclamation point. Fi