Reggie Ivers realized he'd stopped walking.

He must have walked really fast because it was pretty chilly and even though he wasn't wearing a jacket he was sweating. But why did he stop? Where was he?

Reggie looked up at the numbers over the front of the tall building on the corner: 527 East Forty-second Street. Why did that sound familiar? Why did he know that address?

He heard the sound of paper rustling and he looked down, realized there was paper in his hand. Yellow paper. He smoothed it out, saw it was from a phone book. Oh, yeah. He'd been looking in a phone book, he remembered that now. But why? What was he looking for?

Now he remembered that, too.

He was looking for lawyers. Lying, cheating, cocksucking lawyers.

Reggie stared at the ripped-out yellow page, saw that he'd circled the name of a. lawyer at the top of the page. The first lawyer in the phone book. It was the name of a firm.

Aarons, Reuss and Seaver.

And look at this. Look at their address: 527 East Forty-second Street. Right where he was.

Son of a bitch, Reggie Ivers thought. What a coincidence.

And you'd have to be crazy not to believe in coincidences.

– "-"-"DOM BERTONLINI WALKED with Jack into the lobby of the building on First Avenue and Forty-second Street.

"You know what floor she's on, right?"

"Seventeen. Aren't you comin' up?"

"No," Dom said. As usual, he spoke in a raspy growl and he knew it sounded harsher than he wanted it to. "I think she wants to talk to you herself. I'll be up in a little while."

"What's goin' on?" Jack asked. "What's the big secret?"

"You'll just have to ask her," Dom said. And then, with his good hand, he brushed Jack's hair back off his forehead. "We can talk about it at the game, Jackie, just you and me. But now I'm gonna take a little stroll around the block. And then I'll come up and see how you guys are doin'."