It was the ledger I had taken from Paul’s hidden floor safe weeks ago, along with the encrypted flash drive.

“This is everything,” I said, holding it out to Vincent. “Every account, every shell company, every bribe Paul paid to Corrado’s people.”

Vincent looked at the plastic folder but did not take it immediately. “This is enough to destroy them both.”

“I don’t want them dead, Vincent,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “I want them locked in a cage where they can never touch me again.”

Vincent stood silent for a long moment, the only sound the faint hum of the basement’s ventilation system.

Finally, a slow, respectful nod showed on his face.

“I know someone who has been waiting for this exact package,” Vincent said.

He checked his watch, the face of it scratched from the tunnel walls.

“Dr. Hale, get the car ready,” Vincent ordered. “We are going to Foley Square.”

Twenty minutes later, we were riding in the back of a discreet, black sedan through the rain-slicked streets of Manhattan.

The city lights smeared across the wet windows like running paint.