Chapter One

1

Thomas Bolden checked over his shoulder. The two men were still a half block behind. They’d kept the same distance since he’d noticed them soon after coming out of the hotel. He wasn’t sure why they bothered him. Both were tall and clean-cut, about his age. They were respectably dressed in dark slacks and overcoats. At a glance, they appeared unthreatening. They could be bankers headed home after a late night at the office. College buddies hurrying to the Princeton Club for a last round before closing. More likely, they were two of the approximately three hundred guests who had suffered through the dinner given in his honor.

And yet . . . they disturbed him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” said Bolden. “What were you saying?”

“Where are you going to put it?” Jennifer Dance asked. “You know . . . in your apartment?”

“Put it?” Bolden glanced at the large sterling-silver plate cradled in Jenny’s arms. “You mean I’m supposed to keep it on display?”

The plate looked like the one awarded to the women’s singles champion at Wimbledon. This one, however, was engraved with the words “Thomas F. Bolden. Harlem Boys Club Man of the Year.” He’d won plaques, medals, scrolls, and trophies, but never a plate. He wondered what joker at the club had thought it up. Curling an arm over Jenny’s shoulders, he drew her close and said, “No, no, no. This beautifully crafted hunk of lead is going straight into the closet.”

“You should be proud of it,” Jenny protested.

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