Chapter Seventeen

When we get in the car and the doors close, Chloe screeches. Apparently she’s happy.
Chloe, “Amaya, how did I do, really?”
“No guest would have noticed, only another geisha. That is why she promoted you. You were a little rushed, it happens when we are under pressure. Nothing was out of order or sloppy. When you can do it so well, no tea master can find a flaw, the tea practice will slow and more time will be spent on conversation, music, and drawing. I will help you with music and conversation, Daphne will help both of us in calligraphy. I am an adequate calligrapher, not a good one, and light years away from Daphne.”
“I thought you are Daphne.”
“Physical skills do not mingle. She cannot sing as I do, I cannot do martial arts as she does. I can hear what she hears, see what she sees, taste, touch and smell are weakly connected, hardly at all.”
Chloe, “I wonder why that is?”
“We focus on the gifts we've been given, not worry about the ones we were not.”
“Janah would say that's greed.”
“And Janah would be right.”
“I understand.”
When we get to Chapmans, the driver pops the trunk and Chloe sees the stack of bags and boxes.
Angelo takes them to the entrance lobby, “I don’t know what a maiko is, but it sounds like a big deal, congrats Chloe.”
“Thanks, I earned a chance to do more work, but I love it.”
“When I get home, I’m gonna look it up and show the family, you girls get up to more stuff inna week than most people do inna year. See you soon, stay outta trouble,” he laughs, “like that’s gonna happen.”
We haul the packages up the elevator. Nice to have a private car. Given the ridiculous level of our wealth, it seems rather silly to hail taxis from the curb when we can more than afford to have a car and driver waiting. Those folks need to make a living too. And given our crew, most of the time it would take two or even three taxis. Try flagging that many down in the rush hour or rain. It isn't like we are hoarding the green, we spend it, it gets taxed, people make a living off our spending.
Chloe, “Amaya's been on a shopping tour I see.”
“Let's get it upstairs and you into a bath and something comfortable.”
While Amaya unpacks and sorts purchases, I get the Jacuzzi wound up and let her relax. Her room has its own sound system, I find her favorite collection, chants and shamisen, the three stringed Japanese instrument geisha play. As a Sensitive, the repetition of chants and the simple elegance of shamisen resonates with her innate temperament. Frequently Zi and Chloe spend entire afternoons in Chloe's room, sitting on their knees contemplating the still fountain, the dichotomy of water that appears not to move, yet flows, music soft in the background.
After she bubbles, we spend the next hour trying on her new outfits, she's gotten used to New York in most ways, still bemused by the difference of her life as less than a dog and her life as the center of our universe.
Today she’s been promoted, and coincidentally swamped in lovely new clothes and bath accessories courtesy of Amaya.
“Wow, what a day! I am the luckiest girl on the planet. Thank you, Amaya, so thoughtful.”
“You may hug me, do not muss though, I cannot be all wrinkly.”
Chloe gives her a two cheek kiss, then springs into her arms, legs wrap around Amaya’s hips and smacks her on the lips, “Hug me.”
Amaya sighs, decides some things are worth a wrinkle and reapplied lip gloss.
Chloe is genuinely appreciative, and while it can be seen as spoiling her unnecessarily, we do it because she doesn't slack. Spoiled means dodging responsibilities because you can get away with it. Chloe does nothing of the sort. She plunged into catching up on her life, does reasonable academic work, and we’ve already explored the number of projects she has undertaken.
She’s busy because she wants to be, we have certain basics she has to work on, she does. When she fouls up something, learning math, spelling for instance, she takes it in stride, giggles at her mistakes. Then the Chloe smile, violet eyes playful. She persists until Janah or Susan are satisfied.
She can't charm us with colorful braces any longer, but the big white straight teeth are just as effective, spray of freckles, soft ginger blonde hair down her back.
She took on kendo and maiko training under the stern eyes of the Murakamis. Hanshi saw enough to continue with her personally. He could just have easily turned her over to Nikko or me, but he likes Chloe's enthusiasm. He's also a bit mystified by her ability to tell him what he's thinking, particularly since, as a samurai, inscrutability is considered an essential personality trait.
He told Nikko, “The girl has started to see my feints and doesn't fall for them, she remains still as stone. Just as I am going to tell her to kneel and contemplate, she kneels in front of the shrine then just before I tell her to resume practice, she is rising. At first, I thought it coincidence, but it happens over and over. It is as if she is in my head before I am.”
Nikko explained the nature of Sensitives to him, “Zi and Chloe speak of reading auras, energy fields around people they see as colors. Some colors are constant across everyone, other hues are specific to individuals. When they learn the nuances, they stay a step ahead of us. How this is, we do not know.”
Nikko told us her father shrugged and said, “Masters know the student's state of mind by their demeanor before they speak or act. I don't see auras, no colors, I am not even sure I know how I do it, it's just there.”
He'd answered his own question, she can do what she can do and speculating on 'how' is only an intellectual curiosity. That she possesses the skill will make her a formidable opponent.

Chapter Eighteen

Time does its thing, passes. Today, our immediate family of six is sitting around the main room in the apartment, which includes the kitchen, dining table and living room in one expansive space. Janah is on the couch, I'm on one side of her, Amaya on the other. Nikko is in one of the big chairs, soft cushiony leather, Zi and Chloe sit cross legged on the mat. I notice Chloe's feet, which are hardly gigantic, but there's enough disproportion for me to know she is still growing into them. She can wear our shoes but is a shade over an inch shorter. I guess she’ll be as tall as Nikko and I, Janah is a hair under five seven, Amaya five eight, Zi is about the same, Chloe is five eight plus.
Chloe, “I'm going to be the tallest.”
“And you know that because...?”
“Just wait. See these?” She waggles her fingers at me, then puts her hand flat against mine, her fingers are a half inch longer already. Either that or I'm going to be a stick with clown feet and basketball hands.”
Janah, “She's right. I'm going to need tall lessons. I spend all day looking up.”
Nikko, “We'll have Lacy and Ning over more often.”
“I suppose that would compensate. I'm not complaining, it would be hard to sleep wrapped up by Lacy and Ning, my covers would keep falling off.”
“You are the most pampered human on the planet.”
Janah smiles, “Yes.”
Chloe comes from left field, “Janah, does pleasure always bring pain?”
“Is the universe in balance?”
Chloe thinks for a while, “I think so. If there was a constant imbalance, things would break, wouldn't they?”
“The water on the surface of your fountain remains in perfect balance until the flow of more water causes it to cascade down the sides. But the surface appears perfectly still. Clearly it is not, but we do not see the evidence until it spills over. Is that an imbalance?”
“Yes, or it wouldn't run over the sides.”
“What happens then?”
“It is collected in the pool and goes through the pump, back up to the surface.”
“So is the water in balance or out of balance?”
 “How so?”
“Geez, let's one portion of the fountain, it is out of balance, where the water runs over the side...but as an entire system it is always in balance.”
“Just so. When you focus your eye on the part, it appears unstable. When you observe the whole it is stable.”
“When you guys go out to correct an injustice, are you not focused on the whole, only the part?”
Janah smiles at Chloe's insight, it’s hardly an accusation, our partial focus resulted in her rescue after all, “You are correct, we are focused on the part.”
Chloe mulls that for some time, says, “Is that not creating imbalance?”
“Is it?”
Chloe heaves a sigh, “I'm working overtime, you are restoring balance.”
“You’ve caught it.”
“But how do you know the actions you take are the right ones?'
“They are necessary.”
“Who decides necessity?”
Janah, “The same law that requires balance.”
Chloe examines the ceiling, then back to Janah, “I surrender, please explain.”
“Did you decide to be rescued?”
Yet you were.”
“So you decided?”
“The Society called on us. We took the job. In that sense only did we decide anything. Everything that is, is naturally part of the whole. The water doesn't decide to spill over the side, it spills when the pressure at the edge is greater than the surface tension. In explaining the flow of water, it's fairly straightforward, atmospheric pressure, surface tension, volume peaks, gravity does the rest. In human action, the complexities are immense and it is impossible to say what combination applies to any situation.”
“Could you have decided not to take the job?”
“No, not without a different set of equally unaccountable circumstances. I know we had to take it because we took it.”
“Was it destiny then?”
“As people generally think of it, destiny is something that is bound to happen. That the sun will shine tomorrow could be called its destiny. In human terms, there is no destiny in advance, it only appears that way looking backward. Today it is our destiny to be having this discussion. We only know that because we are having it. Tomorrow there will be another destiny, I can say today I am going to the temple tomorrow, but it is only a guess, not determined. Unknown and unknowable events are happening as we speak that will influence our destiny.”
I add, “In 2001, on September 10th, people thought they would go to their jobs in the World Trade Center and have a normal day. On September 11th, nothing of the sort happened. An extreme example, but it makes Janah's point.”
All these concepts are just that, concepts, ways to talk about things. Known physical events can be called destiny in the sense they are destined to happen. People tend to take it a step too far. They say stopping for coffee and meeting their life partner was their destiny. That’s an attempt to make it more than it was, a coincidence. Sheer coincidence in meeting a partner is hardly romantic, calling it destiny attaches meaning and purpose. I'm not sure what they call it when the divorce comes. One would think logical consistency demands finding Mr. Right in bed with your sister would then also be seen as destiny and shrugged off as inevitable.
I can't grasp how it is that, for instance, a Muslim man believes that Allah controls all, then throws acid in his wife's face when she wants a divorce. Didn't Allah guide her to divorce? Or did Allah takes his hands off the wheel that day just to see what might happen? The Biggie Questions.
Now, it is our destiny to move on.
Chloe is back from a shoot with Taylor, mother-daughter thing. Chloe is supposed to be Taylor's daughter and they are going to a society gig of some kind. They will be inserted into a crowd in a ballroom via the magic of digital photography.
“How'd it go?”
Chloe, “Great, everyone was so nice. The styled and restyled my hair a dozen times, changed makeup to suit the photographer. I stood next to Taylor, purse in front of me, then to the side, then just a step behind her, like we we're entering a room, then the same thing but I'm in front, then I'm seated and Taylor is standing looking down at me looking up at her. The only thing they didn't want was a smile, couldn't show off my perfect teeth.”
“I'm sure Taylor told you, it isn't about you. You're just a rack they hang clothes and accessories on.”
“Oh, that was clear. It's like I'm not even there, all they talk about is what angle the purse should be, how far up my arm the bracelet goes, how to best show the earrings and necklace.”
“What were they selling?”
“The whole outfit. You know, where they say blah, blah dress by Antigone, two thousand nine hundred, purse by so and so, shoes by somebody else. Taylor says it's cheaper for the designers to have their stuff as part of the ad rather than the entire ad. I listed for around fifteen thousand, Taylor was twenty.”
“Thirty five thousand in rags and jewelry, must have been a downscale party for New York.”
Chloe, “I guess. It was fun, though. I got my next job, too. And I get to flash a big smile. I'm glad Taylor made me get my portfolio shots with my braces. Now I'm the feature with my braces and the finished job. The photographer is doing an orthodontic ad and loves my eyes. He said I'm scintillating and will sell tons of braces.”
“Cool, when's the shoot?”
“Next Thursday, Taylor has another job, can you take me?”
“Of course.”
Amaya, “I would love to go, they do not want a gaggle of family. I will follow through Daphne's eyes.”
We relax through the weekend, dinner out with the Epsteins, our usual nothing Sunday, we have a big brunch for just the six of us, then everyone settles into either reading, Amaya, Chloe and I watch the Girl With the Dragon Tattoo American version, a short nap, then a long walk through the Village.
Chloe’s off Monday morning to the Murakami's, Janah and I do temple things while Zi and Nikko do property things and Amaya polishes a new play, deep dark, about abuse.
She’d performed one act at Chapmans, a one girl monologue, all made up with a black eye and busted lip. Everyone bawled, you believed the confusion, the sheer sorrow and pain. She got a standing ovation.
Thursday is here, a car comes for us, they want her fresh. I'm watching Chloe get her hair styled to a young girl look, off white ribbon in her hair, tied in a bow on top of her head. Minimal makeup, she's supposed to be a kid, then what seems like a thousand shots. I wonder how many shots of a smile they need. It takes three hours, then she deconstructs and we're off to meet Janah and Amaya at the diner.
Mini, “Hey girls, what's new?”
“Chloe and I just came from her modeling job, she's going to be in an orthodontics ad.”
Mini lights up, “Dat's great, she's got the smile for it,” asks Chloe, “you gonna be a model, like Taylor?”
“I got a contract with her agency, maybe I won't sell enough braces and they'll dump me.”
“Not a chance, honey.”
“She did a shoot with Taylor last week, the photographer was looking for a girl to do the ad and Miss Violet Eyes got an offer on the spot.”
“Maybe I should get inna modeling. I got da look.”
“I promise to buy whatever you're selling handsome.”
Mini laughs, “Won’t be no weight loss program. Hungry, what'll it be?”
I have chicken salad on wheat, turkey on sourdough toast with cranberry sauce for Chloe and Amaya, Janah has scrambled egg with cheese on wheat toast. Chips today, not fries and slices of the diner's lip puckering kosher dills.
As we finish up, Mini waves Janah over to the kitchen, then they go to the room that isn't there.
“Amaya, why don’t you and Chloe go visit the Jamaicans, we'll be along in a minute.”
She nods, they go out the door, I pay the tab and wait at the counter. It's busy, Chuck nods but is running his register non-stop. I go to Janah's mind and listen.
Mini, “Adriana’s number two came in yesterday.”
Janah, “Rocco.”
“Yeah. Adriana is mostly legit, but has her fingers in some, uh, grey areas. You know how she is, her old man was a boss in the day when the Italians were the big deal. Then he went legit, again mostly. The life is in their blood, Adriana is like her dad. Running businesses is too easy, they need a taste of the illegal. I know these people, they say they want out, but they keep a finger in. When I cut loose, it was out of my blood like a transfusion.”
“What's she gotten herself into?”
“Nothing violent. She was cleaning money for old friends. With her businesses, cash can move around pretty easy, she does big volume in Italian imports, has real estate in Queens and Jersey, few other things. Piece of property gets sold to one company for cash, used to buy something else which is flipped to a third, one offshore. Cash is transferred to other companies in Italy, stuff gets bought and sold mostly on paper, it comes back as profits or payments due.”
“And with the increasing difficulty in today's world, she wants out.”
“She did money for guys who sell weed, tried as best she could to stay out of the hard stuff dealers. I mean, the cash doesn't come marked as from weed or from heroin, but she made an effort to know whose money she was cleaning. Now, there's pressure to do bigger numbers. Rocco says cleaning a couple million a month is no big deal. But they want more, a lot more.”
“And whoever it is, is raising the temperature.”
“Yeah. Adriana is in no position to go to war over it. Her part is accounting, not muscle. She has Rocco and a coupla other guys who bodyguard for her, but she's got no presence on the street.”
“Wonder why she didn't call me? She ask for me, or you just relating Rocco's story?”
“Rocco said she mentioned you. He came here because she thinks they might be tapping her. She coulda got a throwaway phone and called, but she is also reluctant to bring you into it. I think Rocco is feeling it out for her.”
“We have to help. She and Amaya are shopping pals. It's a long shot, but I can't have Amaya as collateral damage, besides, I don't want Adriana hurt in the first place.”
“You can't call her now, you want me to get Rocco to give you details?”
“Tell Rocco that Amaya will call her to have lunch or something. We'll take it from there. Whatever Amaya suggests, tell Adriana to go with it.”
“When will you talk to him?”
Mini, “By tonight.”

Chapter Nineteen

Janah and I join Amaya and Chloe, Amaya is busying looking over Juju's new assortments. Chloe gets a chunky laminate bracelet, Amaya sets several pieces aside for the Night Rain collection.
Whatever Amaya likes, people buy. Back when, before Chloe, Amaya had been surfing the table and bought a few items from Juju. It was a busy shopping day, lots of people looking over the goods. When they saw the beautiful young girl buying, several of them waited until she left and bought the same things she had. People asked who the girl was, Juju wouldn't say, of course. He said he called her Night Rain, Amaya means night rain in Japanese.
Janah and I have known the Jamaicans since we were teenagers. They looked out for us, then Amaya comes along and they wind up with a kind of exclusive street boutique. They’re convinced Janah is a voodoo queen that decided to bless them.
Juju, “Hey, look at DeSeelk,” my Jamaican nickname, “and de White Angel. Where is de Japanese today?”
Janah, “She and Zi are working, we're goofing off. Somebody's got to pay the bills.”
Juju, “Dis' one,” nodding to Chloe, “she got de eyes of God, and anudder eye, inside dat head of hers. She look at Quiet Man de udda day, she ask him who he worried about. Now Quiet Man, he don' say nuttin, he lean against de fence like always. So how she know he worried? Out of de blue, he tell her his daughter sick at home. She does it all de time, tell us what we t'inking. Not de exac' ting, but how we feeling. I t'ink I got anudder mambo, like de White Angel.”
Janah, “Chloe catches the signals. You, Quiet Man, Timothy, all catch the scent of trouble in the air. You put us onto a couple of trouble guys a few years back. You didn't know them, you felt them. She does something like that. That's all.”
“Dat's so. We learn from bein' on de street. Our goods are out loose on the table. We gotta watch de customer and de table or de goods walk away. What she got, maybe she learn some udda way, but she got de extra sense, a natural fact.”
Janah, “Trouble is trouble, it can cost money or cause pain, but it will make us pay close attention.”
Juju nods, “I catch it.”
We head back to the apartment, Zi and Nikko show up an hour later, Janah fills them in on Adriana.
Nikko, “You're going to look into this?”
“I'm going to see what Adriana has to say. Depends on whether the people making threats are lightweights or more serious types. They likely know Adriana doesn't have people to push back. If she calls on old associates, that's another favor she owes. I need two things, to know she's in serious danger, and to have her word this is it. No more playing around in the shadows. I can't put us at risk because of her hobby. If she wants thrills, she can take up hang gliding.”
Janah's phone rings, it’s Mini, “Adriana's been informed.”
She hangs up, “Amaya, call Adriana from one of the throwaways. Use this number.”
Amaya calls, Rocco answers, “Adriana please.”
Rocco, “Who's calling?”
“Shopping buddy.”
Adriana, “Hey beautiful. What's up?”
“Been wanting to have lunch, when's good?”
“Tomorrow, but one, one fifteen?”
“I'll pick you up at one fifteen, black Escalade, right out front.”
She clicks off.
We call Ning, order dinner, it’s delivered by taxi. Security calls when it arrives, Zi and I collect it. Then it’s a Fong's feast of smooth as silk egg drop, hot and sour soup, garlic shrimp, stir-fried vegetables and fried rice. Ning threw in a stack of crispy wings and a dipping sauce with just a hint of sweet and a bite that could vaporize liquid nitrogen. We eat everything, not so much as a stray grain of rice.
Chloe giggles, “There must have been four dozen jumbo shrimp and a platter of every vegetable grown, I love snappy snow peas. Who ate two quarts of soup?”
Janah, “I ate two bowls of egg drop, little piggy, that was after two spring rolls, followed by those splendid vegetables. Daphne, is there ice cream?”
Chloe, “You should weigh a ton.”
“I metabolize efficiently.”
Nikko, “You metabolize like a garbage disposal.”
“That's what I said.”
“Janah's been eating like a starved rhino since I've known her. She is muscle dense, has a washboard tummy and rock hard thighs. If there's any fat, it's in her breasts, it isn't anyplace else. And her breasts are hardly busty. She's bigger than the rest of us, but that doesn't take much, she's a thirty two. The rest of us don't make a molehill.”
Nikko, “More than a handful is a waste.”
Chloe, “I'm still waiting for a handful.”
We laugh until tears run.

Chapter Twenty

Amaya pulls the Escalade in front of Adriana's Gramercy Park townhouse, an exclusive neighborhood, with a residents only two acre private park. It's directly northeast from us on the other side of the island, the Flatiron district, just above the East Village.
Adriana appears, Rocco opens the side door, she slips in, we pull away.
“Hello Janah, Daphne. I appreciate this more than you know.”
She looks at Angelo, riding in the passenger seat. When we are in a car, Amaya drives. No dis to Angelo, but Amaya went to tactical driving school, Angelo was busy enforcing before he did time, then got a job with the taxi limo service we fronted.
Adriana, “Nice wheels, when did you buy a car?”
Janah, “We didn’t, it’s a hire car. Amaya has been trained in tactical driving, the car she practiced in was a Tahoe, we went more upscale. She's trained to get us out of problems, but she doesn't get to drive much in the city. So when we use a hire car, she gets to drive.”
Adriana, “And the company lets you do that?”
“We have an arrangement.”
Angelo, “Miss Janah don't wanna say it. She and her family made us a loan, interest free. She don't front, I'm an ex-con on the street lookin' for work.”
Adriana, “Ah, got it. Sounds familiar.”
We pull up on Park Avenue and 52nd, in front of the Four Seasons. Angelo takes the wheel, he'll wait in the car until we're done.
We’re seated immediately, Mrs. Epstein called in the reservation, we are consequently rated higher than investment bankers and CEOs. We want to make a splash, four wickedly rich women out for a high test lunch. Anyone following Adriana would not notice two females out strolling down Park Avenue, around the block to Lexington and back up to Park. That would be Zi and Chloe, sniffing out bad intent. Of course, it’s the Four Seasons, most of the clientele have bad intent. They’re looking for murderous intent, a darker shade of black.
No text, no problem. They stay vigilant, we order lunch.
Janah, “What's going on Adriana? We're clear here, people are monitoring. You can talk.”
“It's basically what Rocco told Mini. I'm responsible, thought I'd have some fun, a taste of the old days, nobody dies. The operation makes over a hundred grand a month after expenses. I never touch anything.”
“And now?”
We'd been watered and wined, the waiter winced when I got a Diet Coke. He returns, we order outrageously expensive salads and fish. He disappears happier, she continues.
“One of the weed dealers expanded in a collaboration with a cocaine and heroin cartel and the business of moving cash came up. I was approached through my people and turned them down flat. The coke guys threatened to leak to the Feds, and my reply was, go ahead. The companies involved then quit taking any cash from any source.”
Janah, “And if the Feds look?”
Adriana, “I'm not a computer genius, I am told that there are no links that can be traced to any of it. If they do dig it out, I play stupid, since nothing came from me or any computer I ever use, or any bank with which I have an account. I don't even have to play dumb. Obviously, someone hacked our business accounts and went undetected, some other bullshit my lawyers will dream up. I’ve dealt with the agencies before, nothing stuck, I was never charged with anything on any inquiry. I don't even have a parking ticket.”
Janah, “Good enough.”
The food comes. Aside from the stupendous prices, it is scrumptious. Water is refilled, we decline more wine with a promise to jack up the tab with dessert and coffee. The waiter is obsequious to a fault.
“And what do you need?”
“My people are being harassed, threatened. A car was trashed. Along the way, one of them mentioned my name. Attempts have been made to approach me directly, Rocco has discouraged them. Only a matter of time though. Either they decide to go after people who work for me, or me. Neither is acceptable and going back into business with them is asking for unlimited trouble.”
“Okay, you learned a lesson. I want your word that there will be no more criminal association. I will not put my associates at risk because you wanted to amuse yourself, including the rationale that it makes a lot of money. You are rich, another million a year doesn't impact you in the least.”
Adriana starts to get testy, Sicilian eyes flash, it’s only a momentary gut reaction, she sighs, “I am truly sorry, Janah. My father would have knocked sense into me, he's not around to do it. I've gotten a hard reality check. I'm out of it, and out of any future it, guaranteed.”
Plates removed, we order dessert and espresso, it appears, we taste this and that, sip coffee.
Janah, “Now for details. Who are these jokers?”
Adriana, “The weed dealer is an American motorcycle club. As far as I know, they don't play rough. They buy the product wholesale from growers and middle man it to a distribution network. For what it's worth, my people who deal with their money guys get the sense they aren't happy with their new found business partners. Why they agreed I don't know.”
“Sounds like they were pressured,or they figured with states legalizing marijuana it's a disappearing business. I think more the former than the latter. Do you know names and location?”
“No, but Rocco knows who knows. My people only dealt with them, who the coke guys are is unknown. The demand for substantially increased participation on our end came out of the blue a few months ago. When I refused, nothing happened. Then things started bad.”
Janah’s quiet, looking at Adrianna.
Adriana shrugs, 'Okay, I get it. It started bad with my bad decision in the first place.”
“At least you see it. Tell Rocco to meet me at the diner tomorrow morning, eight thirty. He needs to be able to supply names and location. I don't want to have to go to someone else in your organization and out myself.”
Adriana is visibly relieved, “No, no, of course not. He'll be there. And, thank you.”
Between talk and eating, we'd killed an hour and a half. No news from our scouts. I text Zi to get a taxi and go home. We drop off Adriana, drive back to our apartment. Nikko is there, Chloe and Zi in ten minutes before us.
I explain, “We're going to look into it. We don't yet know what we need to. Janah and I will meet with Rocco tomorrow at the diner, eight thirty. If you want to come for breakfast at nine, we can talk it over then.”
Nikko, “It isn't lightweights bluffing. If it was, the bikers would have told the coke crowd to buzz off. That and the large increase in cash they want laundered means a serious organization.”
Janah, “Looks like it. Anyway, there's nothing to do on until we talk to Rocco, so I’m doing it by taking a nap.”

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