“All right.” There was not a less boulevard-like street imaginable. It was a two-lane road that should have been called Cow Path Lane. “I think it was named for a minor robber baron from the eighteen hundreds.”

“John Sutphin. Banker, real estate tycoon, and politician.”

“With those three careers, I would think the best you could say was that at least he wasn’t a pedophile. Was he?”

“He was actually a really good guy. He was an honest banker who encouraged his poorest customers to save rather than borrow. He also provided free housing for about a hundred indigent families. And he was county clerk for a couple of decades without a hint of scandal. Now, I’m sure he cut some deals during his time, but he never forgot who he was really working for. The voters, not the developers. Not the rich. He donated all the property for the courthouses and offices.”

“A guy like that wouldn’t have a chance at getting elected these days,” Ted said.

“It wasn’t always like it is today, and it doesn’t have to stay this way.”

Ted made a point of remaining apolitical—partly out of skepticism, partly out of cynicism. But he had a soft spot for optimists. Especially the good-looking female variety.

“What do you need from me?” he asked.

“Can you document everything you told me? I’ve got a guy at the Times who will listen, but he’s going to want hard evidence.” Her eyes were bright, and she had the poised posture of a setter waiting to be released after a covey of quail. She was beautiful.

Ted shook his head. “I tracked the purchases and sales, but there are missing transactions, and files have been vandalized.”

“And when’s the last time that happened?” She raised an eyebrow. “They’ll sit on the deeds until they think we’ve all forgotten about it, then they’ll dump all the records into the system at once.”

“It happens all the time. So? Who’s going to complain?”

“Besides some community organizer?” She flashed a rueful smile.

Ted found her intensity and intelligence intoxicating. He was falling in lust. “Other than destroying files, which I can’t prove, what they’re doing is not illegal. Shady, yes.”

“They had to get variances,” she said. “They had to get air rights. Every property owner in Queens knows you don’t sell your air rights unless you’re getting top dollar.”

Ted silently debated going further. All that they had talked about so far could be labeled general background information. There could be no repercussions. No specific people had been mentioned other than Ron Reisner and Councilman Pak, and they were both highly public figures.

“I’m sorry if this sounds mysterious or melodramatic, but I need you to tell me you won’t share what I’m about to tell you with anyone else,” Ted said.