"That sounds like steady work. Why the change?"
"They moved overseas, sir. They didn't need me anymore."
"Mmh." Harlan looked thoughtful, the way a man does when he is trying to remember whether he knows someone in common. "Whose family was it, if you don't mind my asking? Westchester is a small world."
The pale gray eyes moved just barely away from Harlan's face, toward the front entrance of the building, then back. "The Hendersons, sir."
"The Hendersons. I don't know them. What does the father do?"
"Finance, sir. Most of them do."
Harlan laughed softly. The driver laughed, too; the laugh did not reach the corners of his eyes, either.
"Listen, Patrick, while I have you here: Walter Coleman has been driving me for a long time. Did Hadley tell you why he isn't with me this morning?"
"Car trouble, sir. They said his vehicle wouldn't start."
"And he is at home, then?"
"I believe so, sir."
"That is good. I will give him a call later. He worries when his routine changes." Harlan let his hand slip a fraction along the window frame, as though preparing to step back. Then he paused, as if a small thing had just occurred to him. "Patrick, one more thing. You said the company decal on your dash is green. Is that a new logo? I thought Hadley used the blue circle."