“Julian, what are they talking about?

What fraud?”

Julian reached toward his coat pocket, but the marshal moved fast and pinned Julian’s arm against the roof of the Audi.

“Don’t reach into your clothing, sir,” the marshal said.

“I’ve got five hundred thousand dollars in active portfolio accounts,” Julian yelled, his voice suddenly loud and rushed.

“Call my office in Arlington.

Call my lawyer.”

“Your firm’s Arlington accounts were frozen under a federal order at four o’clock this morning,” the marshal said.