“That’s because it was classified, and we can’t transmit classified information over the phone or by email. If you had just waited, if you had just trusted me. And anyway, now that we both know what Orlov and Nina were saying to each other, let me ask you: does it make any difference?”

The conversation goes silent. Finally, I break that silence.

“No,” I say. “It doesn’t make a damn bit of difference.”

Silence once again. Blumenthal looks down at the floor. Then we both look through a glass panel of his office wall. We look out at the men and women in the office who are pretending not to look at us.

Now I speak quietly. I almost want to hold him by the shoulders so that he’ll listen. “Detective, please, please pay attention to what I say. If you do, then you’ll understand why I am the way I am.” Then I say, “This is all about babies. This isn’t a jewel theft on Fifth Avenue. This isn’t a druggie who cuts his skeevy dealer in the belly. This isn’t a robbery in a bodega or a husband who skipped out on his wife with the savings account money. This is babies! I’m not a very good Catholic. There’s a lot I don’t believe in. But I do believe that babies are miracles. They’re gifts from God. This is the biggest tragedy I’ve ever been close to. This means everything to me.”

There is no pause. Blumenthal looks straight at me and says, “Lucy, I feel exactly the same way.”

And suddenly I believe that he does.

When he speaks next, he is all business, but it’s important business. “I want to tell you that I think I’m on to something—actually, someone—who can help us,” he says.

“Did Orlov start talking?” I ask.

“No. He’s still closed tight. But like I said, I’ve got something else—someone else.”

“Okay,” I say. “What is it? Who is it?”

Blumenthal picks up his cell phone and drops it into his shirt pocket. He walks to the office door.

“Just follow me.”

Chapter 61

Chapter 61

I WALK WITH LEON Blumenthal down some flights of stairs to a parking garage, then we take a sweaty drive in an unmarked police car north to West 35th Street and the Midtown Precinct South. It dawns on me that I was quite recently here. After the mugging at Penn Station.

When we enter, I immediately get the impression that Blumenthal is a pretty respected guy here. He walks the wide, gray corridors while handing out a lot of friendly nods. He takes me well past the room Willie and I sat in that evening, and deeper into the building.