“Nothing like a funny detective when there’s a multiple kidnapping and a brutal assault to be investigated,” I say.

“Haven’t you heard the expression ‘If you don’t laugh, you may end up crying’?”

I roll my eyes a bit.

Then Blumenthal says, “Anyway, how can I help you?”

“I have a great idea.”

“I was afraid of that,” he says.

“Look,” I say. “If you’re going to be an asshole, then I—”

“Sorry,” he says. “And I mean it.” I think he does. There’s something almost annoyingly real about Leon Blumenthal. He’s so real that what he’s thinking and what he’s feeling always seem to show up at the same time.

“Let’s move over to that table near the fruit smoothie machine,” Blumenthal says as he stands up. “I think my colleagues may be a little too interested in our conversation.”

“That’s intriguing. They’re going to hear all about it the moment I leave the room,” I say.

Blumenthal says nothing.

We walk to the end of the room, and I discover that we are standing in a jungle of “healthy food” vending machines. Who knew that such machines existed when I was buying junk food for Blumenthal an hour earlier? One vending machine supplies fresh-ingredient smoothies; another has a complete selection of Nature Valley bars; a third sends out small packets of sunflower seeds or granola or unsalted raw cashews.

Give me a Wendy’s chocolate Frosty and a Milky Way candy bar any day.

Blumenthal and I sit down.

“So what’s up?”

“I’ve got a plan,” I say. “Hear me out before you say no.”

“Go,” he says. And at least he’s acting interested.

“It’s simple,” I say.

“That’s always good,” Blumenthal says. “Simple works for me.”

“It’s simple, but it’s also dangerous.”

“That’s not always good.”

The moment I am actually about to tell Blumenthal my idea, I realize it does seem incredibly dangerous. But it also seems exciting, and most important, it seems like it could work.

“Begin,” he says. “Come on. Let’s bring this plane in for a landing.”

“Okay. I will pose as a pregnant woman, a poor pregnant woman. I can do an Irish accent. I can do a low-class English accent. I can certainly do a low-class Brooklyn accent.”

Blumenthal nods a bit.

I continue. “So we’ll get the name of the Russian couple from Patrik Kovac. I’ll contact them, or you’ll have somebody credible contact them, and then I’ll meet with them. I’ll make arrangements to sell them my baby, and then—”

Blumenthal begins shaking his head back and forth.

I try to ignore him and keep talking. “We’ll start with the first payment. I know that we’ll have to get a payment. Depending on where we meet them, we can have surveillance cameras. Then we—”