“You mean the rotten food?”
“Almost rotten.”
Nikki wrinkled her nose. “How was it?”
“If you’re twenty-six, broke, and starving, it’s delicious. Fry anything in butter, cover it with enough ketchup or mayonnaise, and it tastes okay. I only got sick twice. Oysters. Haven’t had one since.”
“Nice story,” said Nikki, suddenly all business. “Is any of it true or just part of your general line of charming bullshit?”
“Pardon?” Simon smiled, hoping to keep things light, agreeable. “What happened to ‘You’re the boss’?”
“Save it for someone else. You knew Salvatore Brigantino was dead. He was in Germany last year having some kind of experimental treatment. The word’s all over the street. Commissaire Dumont told me you were sharp, that you had good contacts. How did you miss that?”
“We can rule Brigantino out. Good.”
“You still won’t tell me about your little birdie?”
“And Coluzzi?”
“Yes, Coluzzi. He’s a funny one to be on your list. Why would a lifelong bad guy who did time for bank robbery, attempted murder, and felonious assault want to steal a letter?”
“Good question. Once I find him, I’ll ask him and get back to you.”
“Sure you will.”
“Look, Nikki, I don’t know what’s gotten you so upset.”
“You did. You’re wasting my time. You knew Coluzzi was the one all along. Why did you lie?”
“Did you find him?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s make a deal. You tell me what’s in this famous letter and I’ll tell you if I found Coluzzi.”
“Fair enough.”
“Really? You’ll tell me?” It was Nikki’s turn to be surprised. She stood arms akimbo, ready to deliver her next stinging riposte.
“Promise.”
“All right, then,” she said. “Go ahead.”
“I don’t know,” said Simon.
Nikki threw him a look to say she was done here, turned, and walked in the other direction.
Simon hurried to catch up with her. “Word of honor. I don’t know what’s in that letter. My client in this matter—a man who I have every reason to believe—refused to tell me. He did make it clear, however, that it was important.”
“Sure it is. To save his marriage or his bank account.”
“More than that. A lot of people might be in trouble if the wrong people get it.”
“What kind of people?”
“You. Me. Everyone.”
“That’s rich. I’m scared now, Mr. Riske. Trembling in my boots. Can’t you see?” Nikki narrowed her eyes and laughed sarcastically. “Pass it on to the next rube. I’m out of here.”
Simon grabbed her arm before she could take a step. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe it,” he said.
