After fifteen minutes, he stood up straight and shook out his shoulders.

“That’s the roll.” He took several fifties out of his wallet and gave them to Richie. “Take an hour break. Bring Amber and Justin with you. Be back by noon. If you’re late, I’ll be pissed.”

Richie nodded.

“I expect change.”

“Yes, sir.”

Donatti grinned, then tousled the young Latino’s hair. The boy smiled shyly. The girl slipped on a pair of sloppy sweats and threw a knapsack over her back, making her appear even younger.

“Tina,” Donatti called out.

She turned around.

Donatti gave her a thumbs-up. Her face instantly lit up… like turning on a switch. After everyone left, Donatti said, “I’ve got to look at the rolls. Help yourself to some more coffee. I’ll be out in about a half hour.”

The loft held four interior doors. He walked through one of them and was gone from sight. Thirty-two minutes later, he reappeared, a timer in his hands.

“This way.” He motioned to Decker, taking him through a different door. As soon as Decker stepped across the threshold, Donatti flipped several switches—including the light—then locked the door with two solid dead bolts. The office was spacious but had no windows. The illumination was muted, the ventilation provided by an overhead fan. Again there was very little furniture. A thirty-by-sixty table surrounded by four chairs probably served as a desk. Donatti had a lamp, a phone, and a fax machine, but nothing else sat on the table’s surface. There was a single file cabinet against the wall, a clock above it. The wall also had a half-dozen video monitors that gave Donatti a view of the lobby, his own front door, and several other sites around the building’s exterior. Next to the monitors was a wall panel containing ten lights—some were green, some red. Decker figured that they represented various security zones.

Donatti sat on one side of the table; Decker took a seat opposite him. No one spoke. Then Decker laid the crime-scene photos on Donatti’s desk, along with the picture of Ephraim and Shaynda.

Donatti didn’t look at them. “Why in the world do you think I would talk to you? You ruined my life.”

“That’s a very negative spin on it, Chris. I think of it as saving Terry’s life instead.”

“Did she give you my address?”

“No, the cops did.”

“The cops?”

“Yeah, the cops.”

Donatti let out a laugh. “It’s nice to be thought of as the bullet behind every single whack in this city.” His eyes darkened. “You know, after I found out that Terry was pregnant, I kept waiting for her to tell me. Six months after the kid was born, I finally figured out that she had other things in mind… things like denying me my son. And that angered me. I decided to give Terry a little time to get it together. If I didn’t hear boo from her by the time the kid was a year old, she was going to meet with a very unfortunate accident. Three weeks before the target date, I get a letter from her. It starts off like this.