Mr. Clarinet

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TEN MILLION DOLLARS if he performed a miracle and brought the boy back alive, five million dollars if he came back with just the body and another five million if he dragged the killers in with it—their dead-or-alive status was immaterial, as long as they had the kid's blood on their hands.

Those were the terms and, if he chose to accept them, that was the deal.

* * *

Max Mingus was an ex-cop turned private investigator. Missing persons were his specialty, finding them his talent. Most people said he was the best in the business—or at least they had until April 17, 1989, the day he'd started a seven-year sentence in Attica for manslaughter and had his license permanently revoked.

The client's name was Allain Carver. His son's name was Charlie. Charlie was missing, presumed kidnapped.

Optimistically, with things going according to plan and ending happily for all concerned, Max was looking at riding off into the sunset a millionaire ten to fifteen times over. There were a lot of things he wouldn't have to worry about again, and he'd been doing a lot of worrying lately, nothing but worrying.

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