– Of course. As I said, a consultation was all I wanted. I have no interest in prying into a matter that lies so close to Society turf.

I get up.

– Yeah, sure, because that would be out of character for you.

He looks back at his papers.

– Have it as you wish. My wish is simply to facilitate the secrecy the Coalition believes is in all of our best interests. I have no desire to advance the goals of the Society, but interfering in a matter like this can only lead to unwanted publicity. That said, should you require any assistance in your investigation, you have only to call.

The fingers of one hand waft in the direction of the office door.

– Until next time.

I look at him, illuminated by the green shade lamp on his desk, surrounded by hardwood filing cabinets, the walls decorated by black-and-white photos of former holders of this office. All of it as it has been for more years than I learned to count in school. And I make for the door.

– Yeah, sure, next time.

– Pitt.

I stop with the door half open.

– Yeah?

– How did things go with the Docks?

I hesitate. It’s a heartbeat. Less than a heartbeat. But I hesitate.

– Docks?

– The Brooklyn Clan that’s looking for a Manhattan ally.

– Sure, I know who they are, just haven’t seen them myself.

– Odd.

– How’s that?

He taps a finger against his chin.

– We had scheduled a meeting with them. Understanding that they were to meet with the Society first.

– News to me. How’d that go?

– They never arrived.

– Hunh.

He watches me.

I shrug.

– Bridge-and-tunnelers, guess they got bad manners.

He lifts an eyebrow.

– I suppose so.

I start to go out the door, turn back again.

– Hey, that thing.

He looks up again. -Thing?

I point at his desk.

– The thing with the pen, the way you put it there, all perfect. The way your boy downstairs does it the same exact way. I got a theory about that.