He wasn’t handcuffed, and Valentine felt his head start to spin. Fontaine was a career criminal, yet the agents were talking to him like an old pal. Two agents walked past, carrying the cowboy in a black body bag. The guy whose face Valentine had broken with the door was sitting up, and being given smelling salts by one of the FBI agents. He wasn’t wearing handcuffs, either. Valentine realized Fontaine was staring at him. He returned the look and saw Fontaine smile like a guy who knows he’s Teflon-coated. One of the FBI agents said, “Let’s go,” and Fontaine walked up to Valentine, said, “My scar’s bigger than yours,” and followed the agent outside. Valentine went to the window. Parting the blinds with a finger, he watched Fontaine hop into a car waiting by the curb. He had to imagine his feet were nailed to the floor to force himself not to go after him. The remaining FBI agents cleared out of Lucy’s condo a few minutes later. Fuller got in Valentine’s face one more time and told him not to get any stupid ideas.
