"I am. I want you to open the trunk. Make sure you came alone. Mine's already open, you want to look."

He got out, a sneer on his face. Unlocked the trunk. Empty.

"I'll be right back," I told him.

"Burke, wait a minute." His gloved hand on my arm. "I got no more troubles, you understand? Except her. Crazy people, they're always trouble. They stay trouble."

"Why tell me?"

"I know you can get to Wesley. I'm going to make some arrangements. I want to pay him for the last job. The old don, he was a fuckin' idiot. No trap, no games. I give you the cash, you deliver it to Wesley. I don't gotta be around. I just want him to know…no hard feelings…it's a new regime, like they say. You could do this?"

"Maybe."

"Yeah, you always say 'maybe.' I ask you if you get up tomorrow morning, you say 'maybe.' You can do it. When you see Wesley, you tell him he's all right with me. Aces. I even got a nice easy job for him. Cash up front, how's that?"

"I'll see."

I left him standing there. Walked over to Strega's car, feeling his eyes on my back. She stepped out of the little sedan, wearing a black coat, black scarf over her red hair. She handed me a thin envelope.

"I was right," she said.

"Yeah, you were," I said. "Now get out of here."

"I want to see it." Witchy eyes, even in the sunlight. "I was right…about everything."

I walked back toward Julio. The old man came forward, one hand reaching into his pocket. Highway traffic hummed to my right, planes thundered to my left. I held out Strega's envelope to Julio. With his confession inside: how he made a little girl-child dance for him. The child he just sentenced to dance again under Wesley's bullets. He took his hand out of his inside pocket, slipped what I handed him into his coat. Reached back inside. A fat envelope. I took it. Closed my hand over his. He pulled back. "What…?" Max launched off the railing in a dark blur. Julio twisted his neck sharply just as I heard the snap. He fell into me. I slipped his dead arm over my neck, walked him to the railing. Propped him on the bench, emptied his pockets. An old man, sleeping in the sun. Until you got close enough to catch the smell.

I walked back to my car. Closed the trunk on the dark bundle of blankets back there. Followed the BMW out of the parking lot.

The Plymouth shot past Strega, heading for the Triboro Bridge. I thought I saw her wave something at me but the windows of her car were very dark. I couldn't be sure.

I CHECKED my list. I had to spook him, not tip him off. Called one of the six numbers on the printout. Not the dead line. Asked for Train. He came, quickly.

"It's me," I said.

"How did you come by this number?"

"From the man we discussed."

"A shot was fired through my upper window last night. Nobody heard it. There was a little round hole in the glass. A big chunk of plaster torn off the wall."

"I'll have him tomorrow. If I thought you knew what he looked like, I'd prove it to you."

"I know what he looks like."

It would have chilled me, but I knew how he knew.

"If I can pull it off, I'll call tomorrow night. Take you to him."

"You mean…?"

"Yeah. COD."

CALLED MOREHOUSE. Got him live, no machine.

"Stay by your phone tomorrow night. Keep the line clear. All night."

"Sure."

CALLED CANDY.

"Hello, baby," she said into the phone. Breathy. Knowing how old she was supposed to be.

"I want to do it again," I told her.

"Anytime, honey. Just tell me."

"There's something I have to do first. Something real important."

"I know you'll be okay."

"Yeah. I'm just a little nervous."

"Anything I can do?"

"No, I'm covered. He doesn't know…oh, never mind. It's too complicated. But when it's done, I'll bring Elvira back."

"Are you going to have to…?"

"No. I'm going to do something for him. Something he really wants. He'll give me the kid. No problem."

"Oh, I knew you could do it. Didn't I tell you?"

"Yeah. I'll call you soon."

"I love you," she said. Like she had before.

"I'M ON MY WAY," I told Train over the phone.

"I'll be here."

They let me in downstairs. Two of them went with me, close enough to touch. The two Elvira said had made the crazy girl disappear.

He was standing this time. By the window. The one with the little round hole in it. The monster's word was always good. I stepped close to him, keeping my voice down.

"He's dead."

"You're sure? Who is he?"

"Wesley. I'll take you to him- you said you'd know his face."

"How can I be sure?"

"You'll see for yourself."

"Sure of you."

"Ask Reba."

His blue eyes blinked rapidly.

"I don't know how you'll know him," I said, my voice soft, slightly awed, "but I know you will. You can go in my car. Take a couple of your men with you. Hold a gun to the back of my neck all the while, if you want. This is the truth- Wesley is a dead man."

"Where?"

"I left him on Wards Island. I'll show you. I've got a flashlight in the car."

He gestured to the two men. Left me alone in the room. Reba came through the door. I stayed against the window, tapping the ashes from my cigarette onto the sill. She walked against me, wrapping her arms around me, grinding her hips. I slid my hands inside the robe, cupping her buttocks. The globes seemed to swell in my hands.

"Can you work your trick standing up?" I asked her.

"The man is dead?"

"The man is dead."

She pressed against me, a fleshy heat-exchanger. "Will you come back? After you show him?"

"What for?"

"For me. I'll tell you the truth."

"Then I'll come."

"Yes," she said, promising.

Train came back in with the same two men who'd taken me upstairs. "I'll go with you. We all will. When we come back, you'll have your money."

I nodded.

"And whatever else you want here."

"Let's go," I said.

THE FORD was half a block away. I unlocked it. The overhead light went on. The front seat sagged badly on the passenger side, upholstery ripped, a sharp spring showing through.

"It doesn't look like much," I apologized. "Where we're going, a nice car would stand out."

I climbed in behind the wheel. The damaged front seat hadn't been necessary- the bodyguards played it the right way- their bodies pressed against the one they had to keep safe. One of them got into the back. Train next. Then the last man.

I buckled my seat belt. Pulled away from the curb. Drove past the House of Detention. Took the Brooklyn Bridge to the FDR, heading north.

I glanced at the rearview mirror. Train was sitting quietly in the middle, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead at nothing. The two guys on either side of him were in their early twenties. Looked enough alike to be brothers. Close-cropped hair, flat faces, hooded eyes. The first generation of the breeding program? As I hooked onto Wards Island, I heard the sound of a round being chambered. Felt the pistol nestle into the back of my neck.

"You know what that is, Mr. Burke?"

"Yes."

"No matter what happens, Tommy can do his job. The pistol has a hair trigger."

"Tell him to be calm. We're almost there."

I lit a cigarette, leaning back, pressing my head into the gun. Amateurs.

I pulled over under the girders. "Okay," I said, turning sideways to speak to Train, voice low and conversational. "We'll have to walk from here. I'm rolling down my window. Why don't you have Tommy get out and hold the gun while…" I pushed the switch in the middle of the last word, ducking my head. The train hit the wall.