She is standing just inside the door. The bag with the whiskey is cradled in her right arm. He removes the gun from his coat pocket. The cat keeps rubbing against his leg, purring. Sweat is beading his face, sweat is rolling down under the collar of his shirt, sweat dampens his armpits and the matted blond hair on his chest. His hand is shaking violently. "Thank you for doing this," she says. He steadies the gun in both hands.

"Take good care of Irina," she says, and closes her eyes.

The interrogation room went silent. Q: Did you shoot her at that time?

A: Yes.

Q: How many times did you shoot her?

A: Twice.

Q: Did the shots kill her?

A: Yes.

Q: What did you do then? A: I shot the cat. Nellie looked at him.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked.

"I didn't want to take care of her. I know I promised

Svetlana. But cats are not to be trusted." Men, either, Nellie thought. "So you took her money..."

"Yes, but only because I was afraid Bernie would do something bad to me."

"Did you pay him the twenty you owed him? Or did you stiff him, too?"

"I don't know what stiff means."

"Tell him what it means to stiff somebody," Nellie said to the interpreter.

"Ever leave a restaurant without tipping the waiter?" McNalley asked.

"I always tip waiters," Lorenzo said. "What does that have to do with Bernie?"

"She's asking did you go back on your word with him, too?" Moscowitz said. "Isn't that right, Counselor?"

"It's close enough," Nellie said. "Ask him" she told McNalley, who immediately translated the question.

"I didn't go back on my word with him or anyone else," Lorenzo answered. "I didn't stiff anybody, however you say it. I paid Bernie his money, and I did everything Svetlana paid me to do. Except for the cat."

"Except for the cat, right," Nellie said. "The cat, you shot in the head."

"Well."

"Well, didn't you?"

"Yes. I don't like cats."

"Gee, I love them" Nellie said.

And I'm the D.A." she thought.

"What'd you do with the other five thousand?"

"I bet it on the horses."

win?

"Did you " "

"I lost."

"All around," Nellie said.

All during lunch, Priscilla kept complaining about her cheap grandmother leaving her a mere five thousand clams. Georgie kept thinking about the ninety-five thou hidden in one of the black patent-leather dancing slippers in a shoebox in his closet.

First thing he did when he got back to the apartment was check the stash. There it was, in a spanking-clean envelope with a rubber band around it, as beautiful as when he'd put it there yesterday, bulging with money. He counted the money. He wanted to throw it up in the air and let it come down on his head. Instead, he put it back in the envelope and put the rubber band around it again, and put the envelope in one of the shoes, and then put the lid back on the box and put the box back on the top shelf. He closed the closet door. The phone on the kitchen wall was ringing. He went out to it.

It was Tony.

"When do we split the cash?" he wanted to know.

I'll come by your place before we go to the club tonight," Georgie said.

"What's half of ninety-five?" Tony wanted to know. "Forty-seven and change." "How much change?" "Five bills."

"Bring the change, too," Tony said, and hung up.

"What we've got here," Moscowitz said, "is a mercy killing, pure and simple."

"What we've got here, pure and simple," Nellie said, "is Murder Two. In fact, what we may have here, Alan, is murder for hire, which just may qualify for the death penalty."

"Oh, come on, Nellie, really."

"Man takes money to kill someone, that sounds to me like a contract killing."

"Woman gives a man money to assist her in committing suicide, that sounds to me like a mitzvah." "What's a mitzvah?"

"You don't know what a mitzvah is?"

"No, what's a mitzvah?"

"How long have you been practicing law in "this city?"

"Are you going to tell me what a mitzvah is?" "It's a good deed."

"Man shoots a woman .." "She asked him to shoot her." "That's a good deed by you?"

"That's a mitzvah. Nellie, this man isn't a criminal, he's .. ."