“I had a date tonight, you know. Cindy Wacheski was supposed to meet me at the pub at ten.”

“You’re going to run out of women in Boston to charm,” Sean muttered.

“Luckily, new women arrive every day,” Liam teased. “I could introduce you to a few, boyo. How long has it been?” He picked up the camera he had hanging from a strap around his neck, peered through the lens at his older brother and snapped the shutter. “You look like a guy who needs sex and a lot of it.”

The flash illuminated the dark attic and Sean cursed vividly, holding his hand up to his eyes. “This is a stakeout. Anyone on the street can see that flash.”

“I’m sure there are hordes of tourists on the street looking up at this place. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was on the historic Boston tour.” He shook his head in derision. “Couldn’t you have found a place with heat? What could possibly be worth photographing in this attic?”

“It’s not here. It’s across the street. Take a look.”

Liam reached down into his camera case and pulled out his telephoto lens, then exchanged it with the one on his camera. He walked to the grimy attic window and looked out at the street. To his eye, there wasn’t anything worth watching outside. The sidewalk below was empty, the narrow street lined with parked cars.

“This is an important case,” Sean said. “If you’re in, you’re in for good. No backing out later.”

“You could at least start acting like you appreciate me more,” Liam muttered. “I’m your brother and your roommate. I pay half the rent, and tidy up after you and collect your messages when you’re out of town. I don’t have to help you out with this case. I have important work of my own to do. What if I get an assignment from the Globe? Being a stringer means that I have to be available. I had a nice photo on page three of the sports section last week. Did you see it?”

“They pay you pennies. And you haven’t paid the rent in three months.”