Chapter 11Philip Connelly hadn’t just gone to the Yellow Pages and blindly pointed a finger at a list of private detectives. No, he’d wanted Jimmy McSwain on purpose, targeted him, and for what was now an obvious reason. He’d suspected the truth went far beyond his wife’s cheating ways, using that as a catalyst to connect with him before disclosing his true motive—his business dealings. In this land of five boroughs and eight-million-people, New York City had just grown a hell of a lot smaller.
Tuesday nights tended to be a quiet one, workers having survived weekend events and the first workday of the week. Broadway had early curtains, most of them at seven P.M. Which is why Times Square at 7:30 was fairly empty. The crowd was already seated.
Jimmy had gotten off the subway at 49th Stree
