The Last Minute Bar, Manhattan
‘You’re going to kill Jack Ming.’ The man’s voice was slightly accented. Israeli. I felt sure this was Zviman, the man who’d nearly killed Mila, who she had emasculated and enraged, the man responsible for the horror that Mila’s sister endured, the man ultimately responsible for Nelly’s death. ‘At Central Park, in the Ramble. It’s heavily wooded, not one of the busiest sections. This afternoon, a bit before three.’
‘All right,’ I said.
‘He and I are going to meet north of Bow Bridge. It will be crowded. He won’t be willing to step into any more private areas of the park. So he has to go down without drawing attention.’
‘You’re not from here, are you? I can’t kill a guy by Bow Bridge and not have it go noticed. Look, you’ve drawn him to the park. You get whatever you’re buying from him and then he’s my problem.’
‘I’m not funneling him money. He’s dead before then and then I get what he’s carrying.’
Which meant he would want to see the notebook.
‘Kill him quietly. Break his neck or use a knife,’ the man I believed to be Zviman said. ‘Don’t think for a second you can skimp on the job.’
‘I don’t ever think for a second,’ I said.
I clicked off the phone. Leonie lay on the bed.
‘Did he tell you what to do?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you’re working a scam. Don’t bother to lie.’
‘Yes.’
‘All right,’ she said, and I could hear the tone of surrender in her voice. ‘What do you want me to do?’