There was an angry murmur rippling through the crowd. A young woman pulled her little boy back. “You keep away from people like that, you hear me? That is a bad man.”

“You’re crazy, just like your little sister,” snapped Gregory. “You should get your head examined.”

I could feel the blood draining from my face. His poor choice of words didn’t even register until a stocky man with a clean-shaven head stepped forward. “What did you do to her little sister?”

Gregory turned away but found his exit blocked. When he turned back the bald man punched him square in the jaw. Gregory went down like a flyweight against a heavyweight champ. Then a woman stepped forward and kicked him in the ribs. She was wearing Uggs, which probably cushioned the blow, but still, it had to hurt. I stood there, staring at the angry mob, now more guilty than elated.

“Look, cops!” I called. People’s heads looked around and the crowd dispersed. The man who’d punched Gregory ran down Broadway. I ducked into the subway, thinking that had worked a little too well. But as angry as I was at the private investigator, that was nothing compared to how I felt about Martin.

❖

“I’m sorry, but he’s in a meeting and he can’t be disturbed,” the secretary said, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

“He’s going to be disturbed if I don’t get to talk to him right now.” The office was quiet and my voice seemed vulgar and loud. The room, from its black-and-white carpet and the steel-blue walls, to its lacquered black desk and gray sofas, whispered a kind of subdued, masculine glamour. I knew I was out of place, but I didn’t care.

“You can’t simply show up and think he’ll be able to rearrange his schedule…”

“Just let him know I’m here.”

“You’ll simply have to wait.”

“Fine,” I answered, but instead of sitting down, I went for the door behind her and rushed down the corridor. I hadn’t been in the building in some time, but the layout hadn’t changed. My boots clacked on the gray marble floor, and I could hear the secretary’s heels before she said anything.

“You can’t!” she called. “I’m calling security!”

No one tried to grab me. This was a hive of private offices, and many of the doors were shut. You could have yelled “Fire” and this crowd wouldn’t have come running, unless there was money to be made. I was faster than the secretary, or maybe she just didn’t want to catch up with the crazy lady. Either way, I got to the corner office, opened the door, and stepped inside.