“He got sent to Starke on a homicide, shot some dude he was suppose to be bringing in. Doing his rap he was the man up there among the Latinos.”

“Same time you were there.”

“Was where we first bumped into each other.” Louis said, “You understand if you’re thinking to hire Bobby to take out Harry Arno it cost you more than what you owe Harry.”

Chip surprised him, looking pleased at the idea and saying, “Actually what I was wondering, if you and Bobby got along okay.”

“You mean like if me and him was to work together? Have a mutual interest in common?”

Louis watched Mr. Chip Ganz standing there in his underwear almost naked, hands on his bony hipbones, looking at Bobby on the TV screen before looking this way again.

He said, “What do you think?”

Making it sound like he was throwing it up in the air and it didn’t matter to him one way or the other.

Louis said, “Bring Bobby in on the deal so he leave you alone, huh? Won’t be snipping off any your valuable parts.”

“We could use another guy,” Chip said. “We’ve talked about it enough.”

Louis said, “You want to hire him?” trying to make the man come out and say it.

“It’s an idea.”

“Get somebody knows how to do the job,” Louis said, “’stead of sitting around discussing it to death?”

Chip didn’t care for that kind of talk. He said, “My friend, the idea is foolproof. What we’ve been discussing is who we start with.”

He was watching the TV screen again. Louis looked over to see Bobby Deo in that P.R. shirt like he was going to a fiesta, Bobby now inspecting the swimming pool: the pool scummy and ugly with the filter system shut down to save money, algae growing in it like seaweed and turning the water brown.

“Say you put the deal to him and he likes it,” Louis said, “you still owe Harry. He sent Bobby; he can send somebody else.”