Chapter 8IN A GREEN leather recliner, the man glanced at his watch and returned to the annual report on his lap. It was just past nine. It had been a great year, and his greeting proclaimed it when the phone rang.
“They sank four missile cruisers. You were right. They also have the Bush listing. I don't think she'll go down, but they'll have a problem moving her.”
“Make sure we get the pictures to the right people.” He hung up. He raised his glass in a toast to the empty room, “Happy New Year.” He left his report, went up a fifteen-foot-wide staircase, and began dressing for his guests. The steps heard “Auld Lang Syne” as he climbed.
* * *
“HAPPY NEW YEAR. NOT,” Fritz said. Linda frowned in response. Fritz turned on the TV as soon as they got in. Linda put TJ to bed and showed Mary the
