“The best,” I said stoutly.
“In that case,” Jack said, “I think we could use him anyway.”
“Why?”
Jack leaned beside me on the planter. “Shayna’s the daughter of one of Jen’s big collectors. Jen’s assistant is out on maternity leave, so she gave Shayna the fill-in job to keep Shayna’s daddy happy. Shayna knows enough about the art to avoid making a fool of herself, and she’s decorative enough that a lot of collectors don’t care what she knows. But she’s also wildly ambitious. According to Jen, who’s counting the days, she’s everything you think she is.”
“You mean, a man-eating coldhearted calculating—”
“Yes.”
“—backstabbing brownnosing—”
“Exactly.”
“—kind of woman who, if she had a date with a new guy, would totally Google him.”
“Totally.”
“Ah. And might share valuable information with the new guy, if she thought there was something in it for her?”
Bill said, “Getting to spend an hour with me at Bemelmans Bar isn’t enough in it for her?”
“If you’re planning to expense this you’d better choose someplace cheaper than Bemelmans Bar.” I took out my phone. “I’m not sure we have time, though. She’s probably Googling already.”
“No,” said Bill. “I thought of that. I never quite gave her my last name.”
I stared. “You thought of that? I had no idea you even knew what Google was.”
“I don’t know how to play the accordion, either, but I’ve seen it done often enough to know it’s possible.”
I looked at Jack. “Two Chinese people standing here, and the white guy talks in convoluted metaphors.” I called Linus.
“Hey, Cuz! What’s going on? Hey, Trell, it’s Lydia!”
I heard Linus’s friend Trella call a greeting across the room—his parents’ garage, actually, where Wong Security operates from—and I said “hi” back, which Linus passed on. “I’m calling on business, Linus. I have a job for you guys. You busy?”
“We’re always busy. Big growth industry I’m in here. But never too busy for you. Especially if it’s gonna be fun.”
“Well, you tell me. Bill needs a new identity.”
“Awesome! He steal a billion from the Colombian cartel? Or he’s on the run from the FBI?”
“He wants to date a pretty lady.”
“Oh. You know, lots of people do that without being in Witness Protection. Besides, I thought … I mean…”
“It’s business, Linus. We have a case.
“Business. Gotcha. Way cool.” Linus sounded a little unconvinced, but he asked, “What do you need? I can’t do, like, Social Security numbers. I can do a driver’s license, but it’ll take time.”
“I don’t think we need that. This isn’t a background check. I just want whatever she finds to make him look like what he says he is. Vladimir Oblomov, Russian with cash. Probably in import-export, something where there’d be money sloshing around. If you implied he was connected to the Russian mob that would be okay. He collects contemporary Chinese art, that’s the important detail. He can keep a low profile, she’ll believe that, but we want him to pop up enough that when she searches, she takes him for real, a collector, and rich.”
“Rich?”
“Loaded.”
“Excellent. How long do I have?”
“A couple of hours.”
“Piece of cake. Call you when I’m done.”
I thanked him and pocketed the phone and, his “piece of cake” echoing in my ears, I said to the guys, “I’m hungry.”
“Well,” said Jack, “we could go have lunch. Or, we could grab a pretzel and go downtown and talk to Dr. Yang.”
“I thought he was in class.”
“He was. He called while I was in with Jen. He’s back in his office and available for the next couple of hours.”
I hopped off the planter. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Again, Jack started to hail a cab; again, I stopped him. “You have some elitist problem with mass transit? You enjoy breathing car exhaust? The six train will get us to NYU in ten minutes.”
“Sorry. Occupational hazard. In my business the clients look at you oddly if you come up out of the subway. Like
