As he dried off with the plush hand towel, he heard a cell phone ring outside in the room.

He stepped out of the bathroom and stood waiting as Nydia finished her call. She looked up at Beck. He said, “Dial my cell number so I have yours.”

He recited the number. Nydia dialed it without comment. Beck answered the call, stored the number, and said, “I’ll call you when it’s time to come back.”

Olivia watched the exchange. Something had changed Beck’s mood. She wondered what had happened in that bathroom.

Beck walked over to the window overlooking Fifty-seventh Street and stood with his back to Olivia while Nydia gathered herself, shoved the Smith & Wesson in the back of her camouflage pants, and left the room.

As the door shut, he turned to face Olivia, staying near the windows at the other end of the room.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Beck stared at her for a moment. Amazed that part of him was actually thinking about the fact that she was sitting on that bed with no underwear on. A rueful smile crossed his face. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, he thought. If I completely terrify this woman, it probably won’t do me much good.

He watched her for a moment, wondering if there was any way he could see the true part of her underneath everything on the surface.

She was wary, confused by Beck, but so accustomed to controlling men that she still seemed relaxed and confident.

Beck said, “So, I was telling you about things getting worse.”

“Yes?”

“Did you understand what I was saying?”

“I think so.”

“Just to be clear, it’s important that you realize any one of us could be dead now: Manny, Demarco, me. Ciro. You understand that, right?”

“Yes, if you say so. Of course.”

“Or on our way back to jail.”

Olivia continued to give Beck her attention, but said nothing.

Beck motioned toward the door with his head, “I like that tough little chick Manny has looking after you. But she wouldn’t be much more than a small bump between Markov’s men and you. You get that, right?”

“His men?”

“Yes. You have to understand who Markov has working with him. War criminals. Rapists. Killers of women and children and old people. Mass murderers. One of them, the one who seems to be their leader, is clearly insane.”

Olivia stared at him, but didn’t answer.

“There are others, too. A group of hardcore gangsters. Russian. Not the crazy loose-knit crews who flail around with dumb shit. Hardcore. Old, old school.” He shook his head, thinking about it. “From out of the gulags. Beyond anything you know about.”

He moved away from the window overlooking Fifty-seventh Street and sat in the chair where Nydia had been, keeping his distance from Olivia, but his gaze unwavering.

“So,” said Beck, “you and I have to talk about a few things.”

“All right.”

“And there can’t be anything less that the truth. In whatever you say. So help you God.”

Olivia stared back at Beck.

“You understand, right?”

Olivia nodded.

“Let me talk you through it. You’re at Summit. You’ve worked your way to a position of responsibility. You find out Alan Crane is being reckless. Investing money for, as you say, bad people. And he’s pushing it, taking big risks. Naked shorts and all that. Manipulating stocks, whatever unscrupulous shit guys like that do.

“Milstein isn’t comfortable with it. He’s made a deal with the devil, but you know he’s worried. Crane’s too reckless. But Milstein is between a rock and a hard place because he needs the fees and the twenty percent of profits.”

Beck paused, waiting to see if Olivia wanted to say anything. Correct anything. She just continued to stare at him, composed, unmoving. He continued.

“You go to Milstein. You encourage him to put a stop to Crane’s high-risk behavior. Nothing more than that. Basically pushing him in the direction he wants to go anyhow.”

Beck waited. Olivia said nothing.

“Okay. Crane gets wind of it. He goes nuts. Comes down on you. Threatens you. Bangs on your desk. Breaks your hand. Yells. Tells you he’s going to kill you. Have I got it right so far, Olivia?”

“That’s what I told you.”

“I know that’s what you told me. Is that what happened?”

“Yes.”

“All of it? All of that is what happened?”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

Beck leaned forward and spoke softly, but his intensity sent a chill through Olivia.

“This is not the time to ask me questions, Olivia. This is the time to tell me the truth. That’s the only way this will work. So don’t ask me questions. Just tell me the truth.”

Beck leaned back. “It makes no sense that Crane would go off the way you described just because you gently pushed Milstein in the direction he was thinking of going. No, the truth is—you and Milstein conspired to get rid of Crane, and he found out about it. You and Milstein joined forces to shut Crane down.

“But you had to do it in a way that wouldn’t upset Markov. Milstein couldn’t afford to lose him. So you and Milstein came up with a plan. Milstein would drop the hammer on Crane to make him stop taking so much risk. You would step forward to monitor his trades. Why? Because you convinced Milstein you could handle Markov. There isn’t a man alive you don’t think you can handle, Olivia.”

For the first time, Olivia looked down, staring at her lap, looking at her broken fingers in their cast, no longer maintaining eye contact with Beck.

“You saw all that money. You saw Crane screwing it up. You knew you could twist that fat guy around your finger. So why not? Why shouldn’t you get your fair share? Earn a nice bonus. Hey, Wall Street jerks a fraction as good as you are taking home multimillion-dollar bonuses like it’s nothing.

“You were willing to work for it. Hell, a measly two, three million and you’d own that nice little place up in Riverdale. All you needed was a chance to make your mark. To get your wings. You could save the day. Crane was looking at huge losses. You could keep the account from blowing up.”

Beck sat forward, talking faster. Now Olivia looked up and watched him.

“But you both knew Crane wouldn’t go quietly. Hell, Markov was his client. He brought him in. No way he would give up control. But you had that figured out, too.” He stopped and turned to face Olivia. “You had Manny. What did you tell Milstein about Manny? Did you tell him you could have Crane killed?”

Olivia answered quickly. “No. No. Absolutely not.”

Beck continued looking at her. “No?”

“No. No way.”

“You’re lying.”

Olivia’s voice rose. “No. I’m not. All right, I admit we talked about Manny. Milstein told me how volatile Crane was. I told him I wasn’t worried. I told Milstein that my cousin was a man people feared. I told him that one conversation with him and Alan would fold. He would back off and let us do what needed to be done.”

“How were you going to arrange that? How were you going to get Manny involved? The truth.”

“I was going to tell Manny that a man at work was trying to intimidate me. Giving me a hard time. Bullying me. If I had to, I was going to tell Manny he threatened me.”

Beck looked at Olivia, nodded, thinking it over.

“Call in Manny against the bully.”

“Something like that.”

“Something like that? There’s no like that with Manny Guzman, Olivia. No middle ground. No gray. He’s not the kind of man who slaps someone in the head and says be nice to my cousin. He fucking kills them. Makes them disappear.”

Olivia shook her head. “No. I mean, why would I think that? I never believed it would get to that. Milstein was too smart. He never planned on getting rid of Crane completely. We were fine with him staying around to front the business and handle Markov. We just needed him to step back, stop being so reckless, and let us cut back on his high-risk trading. It meant he had to cut me in for a share, but I was going to earn it.”