“Ten…maybe twelve…we think. Maybe more.”

“Ten, twelve, what?”

“Million,” Madelaine said.

“I’ve seen divorces where they dig that stuff out.”

Elizabeth stepped in. “In this case, even if it were successful, it would take years, maybe decades.”

“If he dies, how does that improve things?”

“We’ve made the assumption,” Elizabeth said, “based on certain evidence, as well as reason, that he doesn’t want his money to disappear into whatever banks and shell companies that are hiding it. If he were to die, it would reappear.”

“Magically,” I said.

“Relatively speaking, yes. Then there’s the other issue. He’s threatened to kill Madelaine. We…she and I, at least…regard those threats as genuine.”

“Interesting. Fascinating,” I said, sounding amiable.

Liz nodded. She presumably had made many pitches in her time. She judged this one to have been successful. She glanced over at Maddie, who nodded, and looked relieved.

I took the money out of the envelope. I stuffed it into the inside pocket of my jacket.

“You’re short,” I said.

“Well…”

“There’s only ten in here. The deal was twenty.”

“It’s reasonable to negotiate,” she said, as if there was absolutely nothing wrong. “Besides, I wanted to meet you before being fully committed.”

I stuck my finger in her face.

The moment I’d taken the envelope, I’d guessed from its size and weight that the amount would be wrong. The rage began to cook in my center. It surprised me. That I actually cared about something. As I became certain, it rose up. Like nausea does. But it wasn’t sour and acrid like evil, it tasted of being alive, smooth and sweet, and now it gave me pleasure to let it release. “I don’t know what kind of weird, privileged world you come from, lady, but the two of you are stupid and double down stupid. You make a deal with a man that you actually believe will kill people for money, then you stiff him. You stiff him for ten grand on his up-front money. You think I’ll do business with you? Fuck you. Fuck her. Do you have any understanding of what deep shit you’re in? I call Rollie, the deputy who was here yesterday and saw Maddie, or Detective John Amoroso, or Chief Keefe, in Woodstock, or the new DA, and tell them what the two of you asked me to do, show them the money, and you’re going to prison. Have you ever been in a prison? I don’t expect either you have done time, but have you ever even visited or toured one? I was once in the New York corrections department. I’ve been arrested a few times. It’s not a fucking TV show. It’s humiliation, abuse, being ripped off for everything from toothpaste to tampons to your phone calls. It’s degradation. Every day. It’s why Jeffrey Epstein hanged himself.