His eyes widened. “You know Galina?” He looked confused but not suspicious. He was such an unsuspecting little lamb, I almost felt bad for what I was about to do.
“Let’s just say she knows me,” I replied. “And she doesn’t like me very much.”
“I don’t understand—” he began.
I held up my hand. “Let me shorthand it for you. Your girlfriend wants to kill me—and a few of my friends. But I’m going to kill her first.”
He gaped at me for a long minute, opening and closing his mouth several times before he found his voice again.
“This doesn’t make sense,” he mumbled. He rubbed his forehead. “Is this some kind of joke? It is a bad joke.”
“No, my sense of humor is better than this, I promise. Look, Wolfie, can I call you Wolfie?” He nodded mutely. “Good, I think it’s better to be friendly about these things. You can call me Billie.”
“But your name is Christine,” he corrected.
“No, it’s Billie,” I told him patiently.
The truth was beginning to dawn. “You are not Frau Fellowes?”
“No, I am not.”
“Then you are not with the Met?” He looked crushed.
“No, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up, but we had to get you alone for a chat.”
“But the job next season—” he began.
“Wolfie, let me save you the trouble. There is no job next season. I have nothing to do with the Met in any way, shape, or form. The only opera I know is what I learned from Bugs Bunny.”
“Bugs Bunny?” His confusion turned to outright bewilderment.
I hummed a few bars ofFigaro. “Bugs Bunny,” I repeated.He stared at me without responding. “Look it up on YouTube when you get home. You’ll enjoy it. But in the meantime, I need your help.”
“I don’t understand any of this.” He dropped his face into his hands and I sighed.
“That’s because you’re not letting me finish. Wolfie”—I snapped my fingers and he raised his head—“focus. I need information from you. If you give it to me, you walk free. If you refuse, that photo goes to Galina. As I explained, she really, really loathes me. If she thinks you’re chummy with me, well, I’d hate to be in your shoes.” Of course, I didn’t have Galina’s number since she’d disconnected the one I’d found in Pasha’s diary, but Wolfie wouldn’t know that.
“Why does she hate you?” he asked. It wouldn’t have been my first question in his shoes, but I was okay with satisfying his curiosity.
“Because I killed her father,” I told him. “My friends helped, but I’m the one who actually did the deed. Oh, and I killed her brother too. Pasha. Did you ever meet him?”
He swung his head from side to side as if to clear it.
“Pasha was interesting,” I told him. “He carried a big teddy bear around everywhere he went. Really sharp dresser. Galina didn’t tell you he died?”
“She said he had a heart attack.” His voice was a whisper.
“Yeah, I’m what attacked his heart,” I said. “I drowned him in a bathtub. Galina has had two major losses in a week. Did she tell you about her aunt Evgenia?”
He didn’t even shake his head that time. He simply stared at me, his pupils dilated in fear.
“Aunt Evgenia is dead too, but I’m not responsible for that. Galina is. She killed her own aunt, Wolfie.”
“Why?” His voice was such a hoarse little croak, I really hoped he didn’t have to sing that night. He’d have sounded like Michigan J. Frog.
“Because she thought Aunt Evgenia gave us information about her,” I explained. I gestured towards the phone in his pocket. “And now she’s going to think you did too. You’re not safe unless you work with us.”
“What do you want?” He licked his lips, but they didn’t look any wetter. That meant his mouth had gone dry from the terror, which was good news for me.