Evan opened the door and held it, but Manny stood, turning slowly, having a last look at the street.
“You first,” Manny said.
Evan went into the restaurant, followed by Manny, and they were immediately met by a maître d’.
“Good evening, Mr. White,” the man said smoothly.
“Good evening, Marty,” Manny replied. “This is my friend Joe; he’s going to be a good customer, so treat him right.”
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“Of course, Mr. White. How do you do, Joe?”
“Just fine, thanks,” Evan said. “Nice place you have here.”
“Mr. White, your regular booth is ready, but if you wish to have a drink at t
he bar first …”
“No, thanks, Marty,” Manny said. “We’ll sit down now.”
They were shown to the booth, and Manny took the seat facing the door.
Evan noticed him scanning the faces of the other diners. “See anybody you know?”
“A couple of people,” Manny said. “I’m more interested in who I don’t know.”
“You’re a careful man, Manny,” Evan said. “I like that; it means we’re less likely to have problems tonight.”
“You have the money?” Manny asked.
Evan patted the briefcase on the seat beside him. “Right here. It’s yours as soon as we get that phone call.”
A pretty waitress approached. “Hi, Mr. White, what can I get for you and your guest?”
“Scotch,” Manny said.
“Same here.”
“Two Chivas Regals coming up,” she said, then left. Evan noticed that Manny was sweating. “Do we have any problems, Manny? Is everything all right?”
Manny mopped his face with his napkin. “Don’t worry, I have good people on this,” he said.
“People? More than one?”
“One to handle the boat, one to shoot,” Manny said.
“Oh, okay.” Evan looked out a side window. “It’s almost dark,” he said.
“Dark is good,” Manny said as their drinks arrived. TOM M Y SCU L L EY S AT on Mike Levy’s living room fl oor, with Mike and two deputy sheriffs on the floor nearby. One deputy 2 7 7
S t u a r t W o o d s
was pulling a string in a rhythmic fashion, controlling the rocker. The other occasionally pulled the other string, controlling the drinking hand of the dummy.
“So, Mike, how you been?” Tommy asked.