“I’m the man whose file put a sealed federal indictment in front of the Attorney General — signed two hours ago. And I’m the man who has an FBI tactical team on the perimeter of this hotel, waiting on one word.”

Vance’s sneer vanished. The color drained from his face until he looked like a wax figure.

“You’re lying,” he whispered, but his eyes betrayed him.

“Check your phone, Richard,” I said mildly. “Your offshore accounts were frozen four minutes ago.”

He didn’t check it. He looked at the exits. He looked at his bodyguard, who suddenly looked very nervous. Then, without another word, Vance turned and fast-walked toward the service elevator — abandoning my father, abandoning the deal, running like the rat he was.

Vance was gone. The other parasite remained.