"Strauss?" I said. I was surprised, but not for more than a second. "What's your connection to Strauss?"

"He defended me once in court."

"Strauss doesn't practice criminal law."

"He did years ago before he got married and respectable."

So that was what Strauss had meant when he talked about his current clientele being better than that of criminal lawyers. He was speaking from personal experience.

"Strauss told you to kill me?"

He didn't seem to hear me. "My leg hurts like crazy," he said, gritting his teeth. "I need to see a doctor."

"Did Strauss tell you to kill me?" I said, raising my voice a bit.

"Yes. All right? Yes. He told me you had to be taken out, that you used to be a cop and that you were sniffing around, asking questions about the murder of that woman ten years ago."

"The woman you killed."

He shook his head. "It wasn't me."

"Don't lie to me. If you lie to me, I'll blast your other leg, too. Keep in mind I only have one belt."

His face twisted in pain. The iron smell of blood wafted up from him in waves, mixed with the scent of discharged gunpowder.

"I'm not lying."

I yanked out the picture of Esther with him behind her, angled it so the light of the lamp fell on it, and held it close to his face.

"Here you are on the day she died. I know you killed her."

He squinted at the image, and I could see the recognition in his eyes. "I didn't do it. Was supposed to, but didn't. Strauss paid me to kill her, said she was a troublemaker. What sort of trouble, he never said. Told me to kill her on that specific night, because he had an alibi ready. I followed her, scouted her place, but I didn't kill her."

"You expect me to believe that? I should let you bleed out." And I loosened the belt around his thigh. Blood began oozing out of his wound again.

He got frantic. Sweat filmed his face like a sheet. "No. Don't. I'm telling the truth, I swear it. I didn't kill her. I was going to do it. I went to her apartment that night to do it. The door was open an inch. I went inside and saw them—her and the baby—dead."

"I don't believe you," I said, but I had re-tightened the belt.

"It's the truth. I swear to God it's the truth. Strauss only told me to kill the woman, not the baby. I never would have cut their faces like that. All I did was go through the apartment and take her money and jewelry."

"Strauss thinks you killed her," I said. "Otherwise, he wouldn't have sent you after me."