Hello.

Hello. May I ask who is calling? Basima asked. There was no response. Hello. Hello. Who is calling? Please.

My name is Tonya. I’m calling about the man on the posters put up all over town.

Yes. Yes. You have some information?

I knew him.

Oh?

He owned the bodega on Hunts Point. The one that got broken into.

Yes. Yes, we did. Basima’s hands were shaking. Do you know where he is?

He’s gone, Mrs. He’s gone.

Gone where? Where has he gone to? Tell me.

He’s dead.

When?

Happened some time ago.

How do you know?

Well. I have a friend who tricks up here, and he died on top of her while they were doing it. I mean…

I know what you mean, Basima put the phone down. The receiver sat on the wooden table, and the cord stretched across the kitchen.

Hello. Hello. You still there? You hear me? Your man is dead, ma’am. Smoking that crack pipe. It’ll get you every time. Hello.

Yes, she picked up the phone. I heard you. I heard you. What happened to his body?

Cops picked him up in the alley. That’s what she said. Left him there behind a dumpster.

I see. I see.

Do I get any reward money? There was silence. Hello. Hello.

Basima hung up the phone softly and  cried. What she suspected was confirmed by a stranger. A hooker on Hunts Point. She went back to her bed and lay there, curled up like a baby. The phone would not stop ringing.