45The FBI office was on the three top floors of a nineteenth century building at the southern tip of Manhattan, near the port used by the Staten Island Ferry. Tanner ushered Girardi through security checkpoints and into an elevator that lifted them to the top floor. The austere office of Special Agent Charles Allen reflected the occupant’s myopia. The walls were unadorned: no diploma, framed citation or picture of any kind. The only indication that the room was used by a human being was a toy figurine wearing a blue FBI windbreaker that bore some resemblance to the Special Agent who was a few inches shy of seven feet tall, mostly arms and legs.
Allen pushed himself away from his desk and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Girardi was increasingly uncomfortable in a w
