Donatti said, “Switch places with me, honey. You’re bothering him.”

With one swift motion, he lifted her across his lap, swatting her fanny as he put her on his right side.

“Ooh, do it again,” she purred.

“Behave yourself,” Donatti told her. “We’re in public.”

“Never stopped you before.”

This time, he gave her the force of his eyes, and she slumped back in the seat, hands in her lap.

“Pull over here,” Donatti told the cabbie. “Keep the meter running. Wait for me.”

The driver nodded.

Donatti said, “Get out. I’ll walk you to the door.”

The girl said, “He’s not coming up?”

“No, he’s not coming up.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s not.”

“Well, maybe he’d like to come up.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Are you coming up?”

“No. Get out.”

“Why not?”

“Out.” This time, Donatti didn’t wait. With his long arms, he reached over and opened the passenger door, then pushed her out of the hack. She fell on the sidewalk, but before she could get up, Chris was on her, yanking her to her feet, then dragging her to the front door of an apartment building.

Decker swallowed his wrath as he watched the abuse. Shaynda was still missing. As soon as Donatti and the girl were out of earshot, the cabbie said, “The company don’t like us waiting for fares.”

“If you want to take off, it’s fine with me,” Decker said.

The driver chuckled. “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. You know who that is, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Decker said.

“You sure you know?”

“Christopher Donatti.”

“Just thought I’d say something, in case you didn’t know. Cause I heard him ask for you twose to share the cab. So maybe you didn’t know.”

“I know. Thanks.”

Decker peeked out the window. The girl had thrown her arms around Donatti, was in the process of trying to kiss him. He recoiled from her face and shoved her away. To mollify his rough behavior, he gave her another playful swat on the butt. Then he walked back and gave the cab his loft address.

Donatti threw his head back and closed his eyes. Acting so casual while Decker was still nursing resentment. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Just what was Donatti trying to pull? He couldn’t have been that moronic as to give that girl-that child-an order to seduce him. So what was the point? Just a little head trip to see Decker squirm?

Enough was enough. Donatti might have information, but right now, Decker was too damn furious to be with the bastard. To deal with Chris, Decker needed to be calm and nonjudgmental. He had to walk it off.

He blurted out to the driver, “Just pull over here.” A good two dozen blocks shy of Donatti’s digs.

Chris opened his eyes, looked at him.

“This is my stop,” Decker insisted.

“Here?” the driver asked.

“Here. Pull over now!”

The cabbie did as told.

Decker threw half the fare in Donatti’s lap. “Hey, thanks a lot, buddy.” He threw open the door and stormed out.

It took over twenty minutes of marching uptown on Riverside Drive for Decker to steady his rapid heartbeat. As he trod down the near-empty street, the Hudson River looking black and endless, he couldn’t erase the image of that pathetic little girl, shoved and demeaned, yet she was trying so hard. It saddened him-all these broken souls-but what was the sense of bleeding? Even if Decker had had the capacity to redeem her, there were hundreds of others waiting to take her place.

It was cruel outside, a hard, malodorous mist pricking his face. He was fast approaching 135th, and was at a juncture. Jump or cut bait.

Shaynda was still missing.

Like a cat to his piss, he navigated his way toward Donatti’s building, reaching it, but hesitating before pressing the bell. There was a better than good chance that by now Donatti was equally as pissed, meaning that Decker had blown his one chance. Just terrific!

Suddenly, the buzzer sounded without Decker’s finger on the button.

The video monitor in the office: Donatti had been watching for him. Waiting for him.

Decker went inside the lobby, and this time took the elevator up. The cage was slow and bumpy. He was buzzed into the anteroom and went through the metal detector, but he didn’t set it off probably because Chris had turned it off. The door to the loft was open. Chris greeted him with two glasses of scotch, holding one out to Decker.

“Pass.”

Donatti didn’t move, his arm still extending the cut-crystal glass. Their eyes locked. Decker knew that if he didn’t take the booze, he might as well pack it up. If Donatti was sitting on something, Decker might as well find out what it was. Give the bastard this little victory. He took the glass.

Chris clinked it with his own, then took up the bottle and opened up his office. Without a word, Decker went inside. Chris followed, locked the door, and flipped the antibug switch. He sipped the booze while he and Decker did a staring contest. This time, Decker wasn’t going to give ground.

Donatti went first. “She improvised. You’ve gotta know that wasn’t my idea.”

Decker continued to make eye contact. “Then what was she doing with you in the first place?”

“I was helping her out of a jam.”

“Which you put her into by pimping her.”

Donatti seemed amused. “If I were pimping her, she wouldn’t have been in a jam.” He drained the scotch. “Can I help it if she’s a bad judge of character?”

Decker didn’t answer.

Donatti said, “I usually make it a point to stay in good standing with my former models.”

“Former?”

“Yeah, she’s nineteen now. Can’t use her anymore. Too exposed and too old.”

“At nineteen, she’s too old.”

“One year, Decker,” Donatti said. “Eighteen to nineteen. Men have an infinite appetite for pussy as long as the flesh is fresh. We’re talking a high-turnover business.”

“Where do you get them from?”

“That’s my specialty. Which leads us to the point of this meeting. What I say can’t go beyond these four walls. Not to your wife, to your lawyer, to your rabbi, even to yourself when you sing in the shower. The results of a slipup can be very deleterious.”

Decker didn’t answer.

“Silence isn’t good enough. I’ve got to have your word.”

“You put an awful lot of trust in my word, Donatti.”

“Is it unfounded?”

Decker hid his expression behind the glass.

“If I don’t have your word, there’s no point to any of this.”

“Don’t confess a murder to me, Chris.”

“Who me?” He grinned. “Your word?”

Decker nodded.

Donatti said, “I’m only doing this so you won’t yank your chain. I’ve got the girl. That means you can concentrate on the whack. If the cops told you that I did it, they’re lying. I don’t know anything about it. If I find something out, I’ll pass it along.”

He stood up, but Decker didn’t. “What do you mean, you’ve got the girl?”

“Just that. I’ve got the girl. I’ve had her since Friday. She’s safe. That’s all you have to know.”

“What about her parents-”

“When I say you can’t tell anyone, I mean you can’t tell anyone. I thought that was understood.”

“They’re frantic with worry.”

“I’m sure they are. But they’re still included under no one, Decker!”

Silence.

Decker’s head was awhirl with options. “She’s fifteen, Donatti.”

“I know that.” He smiled. “That’s why you can’t tell anyone. I could go to prison. Having been in prison, I know that I don’t like it. It’s getting late-”

“You have other girls?”

Donatti stared at him. “You’re asking a lot of questions, Decker. The answers may put you in conflict. That won’t do either of us any good.”

“How many girls do you have, Donatti?”

Chris didn’t answer.

Decker needed Donatti’s trust to get information. He made a calculated choice. “It stays between you and me, I swear.”