“So here’s what you do…and we have a script worked out for you. Not a strict script, you know, sort of a guideline. You tell Orlov who you are. You tell him what you do. Then you tell him that you’ve got a terrific deal for him. Instead of his having to chase down women who are willing to hand over their newborn babies, well, you, because you’re a midwife, because you’re in the midst of all the baby action, you tell him that you always know lots of women with unplanned pregnancies. You’re also deep in these gals’ confidence. So you can sniff around. You have perfect access to these women. So you can see if they’d be interested in a deal like Orlov’s. What’s more, you’ll be so helpful, you’ll even supply him occasionally with a newborn. And if—and this is an important if—if a woman reneges on her promise, you can facilitate having her baby stolen or find him another one.”

When Blumenthal finishes presenting the plan, he seems pleased with himself, pleased with his plan. This is either the CIA or I Love Lucy.

“So I’ll be offering up myself as the Russian mafia’s dream come true,” I say.

Blumenthal says, “I wouldn’t say that, Lucy. I’d say you’ll be the NYPD’s dream come true.”

“Thanks,” I say. And then I decide to share with Leon Blumenthal and Bobby Cilia exactly how I feel.

“Look, guys, I know I sound like I fit neatly into the tough broad category. But since I heard this little scenario, I gotta tell you: I’m scared as shit.” As if to prove my point I extend my arm. My hand is shaking. “I’m not good at this sort of thing. I’m no actor. I’m no good at lying. I’m…I don’t know…”

Bobby Cilia says, “Hold on, Ms. Ryuan. This is not acting. This is not lying. This is police work.”

Ordinarily I would have simply classified this little go-getter as an asshole. But his passion is so real that I wish I could steal some of it and inject it into my veins.

Then Blumenthal hits me with a sharp left hook. “Lucy, now I’ve got something to say: You wanted to help us. You bitched and moaned. You said NYPD was lousy.”

Cilia adds his thoughts to the issue. “It’s going to be beautiful. We have phony files for you to bring to Orlov, files about pregnant women you’re working with, their due dates. Pics of other babies you’ve helped deliver. All of it is fictional. The files were concocted by the FBI’s CARD team, experts in child abduction cases. It’s going to be perfect. You’re going to be perfect.”

Nobody speaks for about thirty seconds.

Then I speak. Very quietly. “Okay. When does this happen?”