"No, it was a political thing. Joe thinks I lack political judgment."

A pause. "Well, he thinks you're a hell of a prosecutor, anyway. The best is what he said, actually."

"Next to you, of course. And him."

Crane had a booming laugh. "Of course! Look, maybe the best thing would be if you could run down here to Philadelphia and we could discuss it face-to-face. I'd like to meet you and I'm sure Joe would like to see you again. I know you've got a tight schedule, but could you make it, say, Thursday, day after tomorrow? We could have lunch and talk."

The man's diffidence was starting to annoy Karp. Just once, he wished one of these guys would call him up and say, "Hundred and ninety grand a year for defending scumbags, plus you kiss my ass. Yes or no?"

"And what would we be talking about, Mr. Crane?" Karp asked.

"Please-it's Bert. Well, of course, about you joining our team. Joe suggested that you might be interested in new pastures. Something with more scope for your abilities."

"You mean as Joe's assistant?"

Crane chuckled. "No, no, of course not. I want you for the Kennedy half. In charge of it."

"Oh," said Karp, and then couldn't think of a bright rejoinder.

"You're interested?"

"That's a good word," Karp admitted.

"Fine. I'll expect you in my office Thursday, eleven-thirty." Crane passed on some details about how to get to his office and then closed the conversation.

Karp made the rest of his calls and then futzed around for the remainder of the afternoon, irritated that he was unable to maintain his usual focus. His job consisted largely of supervising the work of thirty other prosecutors, which meant that he had to be passably familiar with several hundred homicide cases at once.

There was a man talking to him who suddenly stopped. Karp realized with a start that the man was waiting for a reply. He was a junior prosecutor and he had just asked Karp for some direction on a case.