That and the comfort of the first-class seats on Dominic Cavello's account.

"Room 4223 has a wonderful view of Times Square, Mr. Kaminsky." The bellhop opened the door to his room."We got the View restaurant and lounge. Your gourmet Renaissance restaurant on the mezzanine. My name's Otis, by the way, if you need anything during your stay."

"Thank you, Otis." Nordeshenko smiled. He pulled out a bill. He pressed it into the bellhop's hand. Otis had fingered him, reminded him he could not be too careful.

"Thankyou. " The bellhop's eyes lit up."Any sort of entertainment you need, you just let me know. The bar upstairs stays active until about two. I know some places that open up after that, if that's what you like. The city that never sleeps, right?"

"Velk´y jablko." Nordeshenko replied in perfect Czech.

"Vel-k´y jab-lko?" The bellhop squinted.

"The Big Apple." Nordeshenko winked.

Otis laughed and pointed at him, closing the door. Nordeshenko laid his briefcase on the bed. He took out his computer. He had people to contact and things to set up. In the morning it would be all work.

But in the meantime, the bellhop wasn't too far off about something else.

He did have his own brand of entertainment planned for tonight.

Tonight, he was going to play poker-with Dominic Cavello's money.

Chapter 6

"YOUR ANTE." The dealer nodded toward him, and Nordeshenko tossed a fresh hundred-dollar chip into the center of the table.

He was in a fashionable poker club in a town house on the upper East Side. The large room had a high, coffered ceiling and tall palladian windows with embroidered gold drapes drawn. All types seemed to be there. Attractive women in evening gowns, amusing themselves at the small-stakes table. The usual gambler types in dark glasses who seemed to be playing for everything they were worth.