He took three slow steps toward the hallway where I stood in the dark.

“I’m offering you a deal,” he said.

“I don’t need a deal,” I said.

“Everyone needs a deal when Julian Maroni finds out where they are,” Arthur said. “And he will. Gregory is a sieve. It’s only a matter of weeks before Maroni realizes you’re the one who kept the docks quiet.”

He stopped just at the edge of the light.

“Come back with me tonight,” Arthur said. “Not as my assistant.”

I kept my eyes on his.

“Then as what?” I asked.

“A partner,” Arthur said.

The word hung in the air, heavy and strange.

Arthur Costello did not have partners.

He had employees, he had assets, and he had enemies.

“A partner,” I repeated.

“Fifty-fifty,” he said. “We split the territory. We split the revenue. You take the logistics and the ports. I keep the enforcement and the political contacts. We sign the papers tomorrow morning in my lawyer’s office.”

He took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes locked on mine.