"You're pretty good at interviewing," Winston noted, as they joined the sparse midday traffic northward. "You let the other fel­low do all the talking. I like that. Just prompt them once in awhile."

"Just the way you've been doing with me about the Wassermanns and Vinnie Baratto," Dean answered.

Winston smiled. "You're also very perceptive."

The federal agent was interested to learn Vinnie and Dean had played sports together, but Dean put to early rest any misconcep­tion about his prowess on the playing field. Winston, the son of a Connecticut congressman, admitted modestly after some prod­ding he was educated at Yale on a sports scholarship and had played both baseball and football for four years. "They won't let you do that anymore. Everyone has to be a specialist nowadays," he added, a hint of regret in his voice. "But it sure made you burn the night oil to keep up the grades."

Sure, Dean thought to himself, more in awe than sarcasm, Only a three-point-eight instead of four-oh.

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Andy Sackler met them at the door of the motel with a mouth full of doughnut and a coffee cup in his hand. Baratto was in the john, but as soon as he emerged, he took one look at Winston and turned away.

"I ain't talking to no nigger cop," he said defiantly.

"Vinnie, you're scum..." Dean said, but the federal agent held out a hand and stopped him.

Jonathan Winston never flinched and his smile remained in place as he moved very close to Vinnie, nearly touching him. "Frankly, I'm not all that partial about talking to a honky low-life piece of shit like you either, but I guess the winds of fate tossed us together." He pushed Baratto down on the bed. "Let's get it out on the table. I'd give you about ten minutes to live if you walked out this door, and maybe a day or two if you stay in the motel. Your sole prayer is to play ball with me. And you know what? I'm not even sure you've got the stuff to get in the ball game-and if that's the case, you're already a dead man."

The look on Baratto's face showed he bought every word Jonathan Winston was saying.

Winston motioned to Sackler and Dean. "Why don't you guys run down the road and get another cup of coffee? My newfound friend and I want to get better acquainted." Vinnie was beginning to lose his color.

"Want me to get the rubber hose from the car?" Sackler asked, smiling at Vinnie as he and Dean started for the door.

"No. We're just going to have a friendly chit-chat," Winston answered. Vinnie started to rise but Winston bounced him back down on the bed.




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