Tommy called at the end of January. He was down south in his suite at the Dip, and he wanted me pronto. He had two Chinese hookers with him and he needed me to cook dinner. What began as an ordinary evening—-I didn’t wear a wire that night; too dangerous—ended in an epiphany. But first we ate. Tommy had the hotel’s kitchen send up everything I needed for my four-star Veal Oscar with hollandaise sauce.