I close my eyes.
When I open them, he is still watching me.
"She would have laughed for you, Emilio. She had the laugh saved."
I cannot speak. He does not need me to.
"Tell your woman thank you."
"For what?"
"For being who she was in my study. For making the deal out loud. For letting me hear it."
I nod.
He closes his eyes.
I stand at the foot of the bed for another half minute. The monitor ticks. Kostas does not open his eyes again.
I leave.
The agentin the corridor stands when I come out.
"Detective."
"Yes."
"Thank you for coming. He has not had anyone in three weeks."
"He has Petros."
"Petros has not come."
I take the elevator down.I walk out of MCC into the kind of May morning Manhattan gets when the city has decided to perform its own postcard. Gold light. Cold air. The Brooklyn Bridge rises in the distance beyond the buildings.
I get in the SUV. I sit for a minute. I drive to Queens.
Nadia isat the cemetery before I am.
Her car in the lot. Her at the grave. She has not gone closer than the path. She is letting me have the approach.
I park. I walk to her. She does not say anything when I reach her. She takes my hand. We walk to the stone together.
Frank Donovan. Karen Donovan. Side by side. The dates I have known by heart since I was thirteen.
I have been here every February for twenty-five years. I have not been here with anyone else.
I take the letter out of my coat. The 2001 federal disclosure draft. I have read it twice this week. Out loud is what I am here to do.
I unfold it. I read.
To the Office of the United States Attorney for the Eastern District of New York. I am writing to offer testimony in exchange for the safety of my son, who is not my son by blood but is my son in every way that matters. I have been carrying this for thirteen years, and I cannot carry it any longer. I will give you the names. I will give you the accounts. I will give you the dates of every payment I have received and the names of every man who has paid me. Take the boy. Keep him safe. Place him with a family who will not know who he was. He is going to be a good man. I want him to live to be one.
My voice catches on,good man.
Nadia's hand tightens on mine.
I keep reading.
