Chapter 3

Victoria, Jake's secretary, stabbed the "Hold" button on her Centrex V150 and prayed to the gods of satellite communications that it would work for a change. Hearing only a monotonous, high-pitched hum in her headset, rather than the angry, raspy voice of the building's landlord, she punched the "Link" button just below it. "Wallerstein Brothers Investigations," she intoned waspishly, desperately trying to mask her flat midwestern accent with something resembling upstate New Jersey.

"Let me speak to Mr. Wallerstein," demanded a thick, East European growl. "Would that be Mr. Jake Wallerstein, or Mr. Abner Wallerstein?" Victoria said through her nose. She hoped he asked for Abner. Abner Wallerstein existed only in Jake's imagination and served only as a source of running amusement for the two of them at happy hour.

"Jacob Allen Wallerstein," the voice demanded, dripping with venom. Allen? Jake has a middle name?