Mickey, in the passenger seat, was trying to spot the shell road that led to the beach. "There it is," he said, pointing to the opening in the shrub line.

The wagon groaned and shook as it made the turn. Tony shut off the engine and coasted to a stop near Paul Arquette's bungalow. They sat for a minute, listening to the hot engine tick in the dark.

"Okay, Puss, we're going fishing, so we need one of those cabin cruisers tied out on the wharf. Make sure nobody's on the dock, then get aboard and see about getting it started. Don't turn it on till me an' Tony get aboard."

"Right." Little Pussy got out of the car and moved down to the beach. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Once he could see that nobody was on the wharf, he crossed the strip of white sand and climbed up on the dock, his lace-up leather shoes making clacking sounds on the freshly painted wood.

Mickey and New York Tony put on gloves and got out of the car. The Flamingo Suite was locked and empty. Mickey moved around to the back where he had broken the glass and saw that it had already been fixed. "Shit," he said in mild disgust This time he removed the pane without breaking it, opened the door, and fitted the glass back into the slot. He let Tony in the front door.

"Okay, this Warren guy is in something called the Sea-foam Suite. It's the next one down. Pick him up and bring him here. And keep him quiet."

"Right." Tony moved silently out the back door and disappeared down the beach.

Warren and Paul were having dinner in the big dining room with the two pollsters from the DNC. They were scheduled to go back to Washington tomorrow. People at other tables stole glances at the famous senator. They talked about the Iowa caucus and how Paul should get there early and start working the state in late January. Paul's wife, Avon, called him long-distance from Washington. He took the call on the headwaiter's phone. By nine o'clock, Paul and Warren said good night to the pollsters, and they all headed back to their respective suites.