Beckett lives in a respectable part of town, sandwiched between two art districts. Her apartment is a handsome brownstone and, while it doesn't have the amenities that Castle's place does, at least it's got a view and a seasoned doorman. Castle sees the hot dog cart parked on the corner a few blocks down. The vendor's apron is bright white and frames his belly like a puffed-out sail.

The cabbie slides the plate glass aside. "This the place?"

Castle speaks lowly. "Yeah, but do me a favour. Circle the block a couple of times, wouldja?"

"Sorry, buddy, my shift's over. You want the sightseeing tour you're gonna' have to --"

"-- There's an extra fifty bucks in it for you if you do the scenic route."

The cabbie switches off his On Duty sign and shuts the partition. The cab glides on through the dark.