Huh? Oh. It takes me a second to realize who the text is from. LB is Leon Blumenthal. I look at Blumenthal. He winks at me. He freaking winks at me. Who winks at anybody anymore? But there’s something nice about it. He’s telling me, in his own awkward way, that he knows I’m nervous as shit, that I should stay calm, that this will be fine. Okay. Who knew that one wink could communicate so much?

“Let’s get moving, people. We got to get moving on this. It’s late. Even the Russian mob goes to sleep sometime,” Bobby yells. This kid can’t wait to be in charge of the place.

Goddamn, I’m nervous. How the hell did I end up here? This is just what I wanted, but come to think of it, maybe it isn’t.

“Lucy,” Blumenthal says, “remember, the script is just a rough map. Use your instincts. You’re smart. Trust your instincts. Just keep it all very small and very natural.”

“Ready, Lucy?” Bobby asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m calling.”

A woman’s voice. “Yes?”

“Hello. This is Lucy Ryuan. May I please speak to Fyodor Orlov?”

“Just a moment.”

That was a lot easier than I expected. I hear no voice, no speaking, no noise as I wait on the phone. Blumenthal gives me a few nods, a few gentle hand gestures. Stay calm. It’s going to go all right.

Now a man’s voice on the phone. “You are Lucy Ryuan?”

“How do you know?” I ask.

He simply says, “Please respond to my question.”

I detect a very slight Slavic accent—Russian, as Patrik said, or perhaps somewhere else in Eastern Europe.

“Yes, I am. Is this Fyodor Orlov?”

“It is. How may I help you?”

“Well, I’m a supervisory midwife at Gramatan University Hospital.”

“I know who you are. You were supposed to deliver the Kovac baby.”

I’m thrown. I hesitate. Blumenthal nods gently. He holds out the palms of both hands in his own stay calm gesture.

“Yes, I was supposed to deliver it,” I say. “The baby’s mother was attacked, and the baby was stolen.”

“Mmm, sounds familiar. Precisely how may I help you? Or even more precisely, what the hell do you want?”

The accent is almost buried, and his English is perfect. He’s done a lot of work to mask his origins.

“I’ve had a thought, something you might be interested in.”

“I doubt that very much. In fact, I am virtually certain that you are participating in a scheme to trap me. You see, I know how incredibly stupid the police of New York City can be. With that in mind, I know that if I cannot bribe the police, then I just wait. They will screw themselves over.”

Blumenthal is motioning me to keep going, and suddenly, like an actress feeling her stage fright evaporate, I speak with strength.