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Holmes tapped his Amex card on the pay screen. A few seconds later, the salesman returned with another Styrofoam box and handed him the receipt. “Remember,” he said, tapping the container with the two lobsters, “these are big boys. Don’t overcook ’em or it’ll be like trying to chew through a spare tire.”

“I’m not worried,” said Holmes. “I have a personal chef.”

He grabbed the container off the counter and headed for the exit. He pushed through onto the sidewalk and took a deep breath of Brooklyn city air. Garbage and exhaust fumes had never smelled so good.

The cab was still idling by the curb, meter running, but Poe wasn’t in it.

Holmes tossed the containers onto the back seat. “Where’s your other fare?” he asked the cabbie. “The man I was with. Dark hair, mustache…”

The cabbie turned around in the front seat. “He said to tell you that he’d meet you at LaGuardia. Said he had something to do.”

Holmes checked his watch. Three hours until takeoff. The airport was only thirty minutes away. Plenty of time. But what was Poe up to?

Holmes looked up and down the block, then glanced at the street sign.

COURT STREET.

Christ!

Annie.

CHAPTER 66

BROOKLYN, ELEVEN YEARS earlier…

“I told you stakeouts were boring,” said Poe.

It was 2:00 a.m. on a Friday in the middle of bitter-cold December. He was parked at the curb in front of Carroll Park, a small snowy oasis in the middle of the Carroll Gardens neighborhood. His girlfriend, Annie, was sitting beside him in the passenger seat of his dark-green Chevy Camaro, his pride and joy. The heater was going full blast and the radio was tuned to WHUV. Indie Rock. Her choice.

“I hope you noticed I wore all black,” said Annie, “just in case we need to do some creeping and peeping.”

Poe glanced over at her. Black turtleneck sweater, black jeans, black boots, black peacoat resting across her legs. Annie’s wavy black hair was tucked under a watch cap, with just a few tendrils spilling out, framing the pale skin of her face.

So beautiful, even dressed like a cat burglar.

“There’ll be no creeping or peeping,” said Poe. “Everything I need to do, I can do right here, from the comfort of a nice warm vehicle.”

As surveillance assignments went, this one was pretty ho-hum, so it was nice to have company. Especially Annie. Poe had been so crazy with work recently that they’d barely seen each other. They hadn’t slept together in a week. He hoped to fix that when they got back to his apartment that night. He checked his watch. Correction: that morning.

He turned and looked up and down the street. It was almost empty. The freezing temperatures were keeping the usual night crawlers indoors. He picked up a small pair of binoculars and aimed them at the target window across the street. Lights on but no movement.

“What happens if you spot him?” asked Annie, a touch of excitement in her voice. “Am I going to see you do a takedown?”

Poe lifted a compact SLR camera from his lap. “No. You’re going to see me snap a few pictures.”

Poe was just two years into his PI business, still trying to build up a customer base. He’d done his share of tracking unfaithful spouses and locating reluctant trial witnesses. One week ago, he’d been hired by a Park Slope dermatologist to find the lowlife who’d been selling coke to his teenage daughter. After a few days of masquerading as a homeless man in the park, Poe had narrowed his search to the top floor of a four-story walkup above a frozen yogurt shop. That was the building in his sights right now.

According to a few local informants, the occupant was a young dealer named Marco, who specialized in clientele from the Berkeley Carroll prep school nearby. Poe had a pretty good description of the guy. Now all he needed were some photographs to turn over to the concerned dad. After that, he could pick up his check.

As Poe watched, the light in the upper apartment went off. Either the subject had just turned in or he was heading out. Fifty-fifty. Poe slid down in his seat and lifted his camera lens just over the lip of the car’s side panel. “Slump down!” he whispered to Annie.

She turned down the radio. “What?”

Poe reached over and tugged on her sleeve. “Slump down! Be unobtrusive. Keep your eyes low.”

He watched her slide her butt down and brace her knees against the dashboard. Her head was now below the headrest, her eyes level with the bottom of the windshield. “Is he coming out?” she asked, staring at the glove compartment.

Poe turned back toward the building. “If he doesn’t, we just wasted four hours.”