“Absolutely.”

“I’ll keep researching from this end,” Randy said.

“Good idea.”

“Peter, please don’t muscle it on your own. You know what we’re working with.”

“Randy, I value my life.”

“That’s very good, bro. It’s good to hear you say the words out loud.”

27

He insisted that he wasn’t living like a king, and by his choice of lodging, I suspected that, for once, he was telling the truth. The building looked a hairbreadth short of dilapidated in an area gone of its glory days. But this was New York City, and I knew that here space was king: Real estate was judged by different standards. Columbia University was encroaching and, somewhere along the line, the land would be valuable. I rang the buzzer and a very sexy voice asked who I was. I gave her my name, which meant nothing to her. But she let me in anyway.

The place was on the fifth floor, number thirteen, and if that was significant of anything, I didn’t know about it. I had to walk through a metal detector, and then a young guard checked my purse. The receptionist, a pretty girl who looked in her teens, asked if I had an appointment. When I told her that I didn’t, she said I’d have to wait.

“He’s in the middle of a shoot. It’s going to be a while. Why don’t you come back in an hour?”

“It’s important,” I told her.

“It’s always important.” A roll of the eyes. “You’ll have to wait, ma’am.”

“It’s very important,” I insisted. “I’m from out of town. If Mr. Donatti finds out that I was here and you didn’t let me in—or even that you made me wait—I guarantee you he’ll be very angry.”

She didn’t answer right away. There must have been something in my voice—calmness and authority—a rarity for me.

“I’ll take the heat,” I assured her. “I know what he’s like when he’s angry. I’m not worried. Page him, please.”

She hesitated, but then she picked up the phone. I heard him screaming.

“What!”

“Sir, there’s a woman—”

That was as far as she got. The slam of the receiver was so loud that even I recoiled. He flew out of the door, his face as red as the blood that had seeped into his cheeks. “Who the fu—”

He stopped when he saw me. He was breathing hard, sweating hard as well. Mrs. Decker had been right. He didn’t look well. He spoke to me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I need to talk to you.”

The room went quiet.

“You’re sure everything’s all right?”

I nodded.

He exhaled. “Give me five minutes.”

I nodded again. “Should I wait here?”

“Yeah.” He regarded his secretary. Her complexion had gone pale gray. “It’s okay, Amber. You did the right thing. Take the rest of the day off.” A glance over at the guard. “Both of you, take the day off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The guard stood up. “Are you sure, Mr. Donatti?”