“That’s it? You could’ve found that out reading the Daily News.”

“Let me start over. What I want to know is, What did he have with him?”

“On him? Wallet, keys, a few bucks. Not much.”

“A backpack,” Ted said. “He always carried a black backpack.”

“Yeah, we found one at the scene. But there was nothing there. Copies of court papers. We looked at them, but there was no reason to think they had any bearing on his case.”

“A standard foreclosure for unpaid water and taxes.” Ted did not make it a question. He barely waited for confirmation.

“Right,” Duran said.

“Do you still have it?”

“The bag? I’m sure. It was booked. But if you’re looking for any clues there, you should keep looking.”

“And the papers?”

“Also booked. We throw nothing away. But we looked at them, Molloy. There was nothing there.”

Ted was exultant but kept his expression neutral. There would be time enough to celebrate when this was done. “Those files tie Richie Rubiano to Reisner, LBC, the tower, and the damn Russians. You’ve heard most of this before, but let me walk you through the updated version. Reisner needed Barbara Miller’s properties to put the tower project together. One of his lawyers—Jacqueline Clavette—arranged to have herself appointed by a judge to be the old lady’s caretaker. I can’t prove that, because I don’t have subpoena power. Your people do. Clavette stopped paying taxes on the lots that Reisner wanted.”

Ted could feel that Duran’s patience was flagging. The detective had heard all this before.

“Bear with me. I would bet you’ll find proof of that in Richie’s files in the backpack. The lots went to auction and, through a couple of cutouts connected to the Russian mob, ended up in Reisner’s hands. Richie dug up enough dirt to figure out the rest. Maybe he thought he could get Reisner to pay him off. Or maybe he just blundered into it and got too close to the truth. Either way he became a problem. The Russians killed him. Meanwhile, this same lawyer is Reisner’s bagman, paying politicians for little favors, like air rights and other variances he needs for the tower project. Let me look at those papers, and I’ll walk you through it.”

Duran was now listening. He wasn’t fighting it; he was hooked. He had heard the tale before but never with the possibility of real proof. Ted was beginning to reel him in. “I still need the old lady,” Duran said.