The Lexus purred. It had a better purr than my two cats. It purred in dollars and yen. So smooth. It rolled down the rough dirt track like an old-time Cadillac on a freshly paved Eisenhower interstate. About a half mile on, I gestured her to go slow. As we neared the next driveway on her left, I pointed to the turn. She turned. Two hundred yards in we got to a good-sized house, relatively new, with a wide deck off the second floor, facing the downhill side, higher than the nearest trees so it had a vast view across the valley and off to the western hills. I used a gesture again, to tell her to stop. When she did, I got out and indicated that she should also.

She got out, not sure if she should be angry, obedient, resentful, or just confused.

I held my hand up to the side of my face like I was making a call. Then held out my hand for her phone. She was extremely reluctant to hand it over.

I shrugged and starting walking away back up the mountain.

“OK,” she called out.

I turned around. Walked up to her. Held out my hand again. She put her phone in it, watching me like my cats watch a large dog. Nervous and ready to jump or to make their scariest snarl. I turned away from her. She gasped. I opened her car door, put the phone inside, and closed the door again.

She stared at me.

“OK,” I said in a normal, conversational tone of voice. “Tell me what you want.”

“What we said, what we said, yesterday. On the train.”

“You’re sure?”

She swallowed and nodded.

“Say it. Say it out loud,” I said. “You’re sober, right?”

“That’s got nothing to do with it. I don’t have a problem with drinking.”

“Of course not. It’s what? About 11:00 in the morning?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to look at my phone.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, look at the sun. See where it is in the sky. It’s 11:00, maybe ten minutes after. Have you had a drink yet today?”

“No. No, I haven’t.”

I thought she was telling the truth. But I wasn’t going to get close enough to smell her breath right then. Maybe later, just to run a truthometer.

“So tell me.”

“I want…I need…my husband to be dead. He’s a monster. He really, truly is.”

“Alright.”

“And I’ll pay.”

“Twenty thousand up front,” I said. “Plus, if there are expenses. Expenses.”

“OK, yes,” she said.

“I’m not going to invoice you or give you receipts. Whatever I say they are, they are, and you cover them.”

“Sure, yes, of course.”

“Then $100,000 afterward.”

“As soon as the estate is settled.”

“How long will that be?”

“I don’t know. The normal time. Weeks, a couple of months, if there are no complications.”