“This is one great place you’ve got here,” Tarlo said as they made their way into the lounge.

Catriona turned and gave him a smile that was a lot more than simple politeness. “Thanks, it’s a family place so we get it cheap.”

“Plenty of wild parties, huh.”

Her smile became teasing. “Maybe.”

Renne shot him an exasperated look; they were supposed to be on duty, not hitting on potential witnesses. He just grinned back, perfect white teeth gleaming out of his handsome tanned face. She’d seen for herself just how successful that grin could be in the clubs and bars around Paris.

Catriona took them over to the kitchen section, which was separated from the living room by a broad marble-topped breakfast bar. The kitchen was ultramodern, equipped with every convenience gadget possible, all built in to swan-white egg-shaped wall modules. Somehow, Renne couldn’t imagine it being used for much actual cooking, not even by the complicated-looking chefbots.

The two other girls were sitting on stools at the bar.

“Trisha Marina Halgarth?” Renne asked.

“That’s me.” One of the girls got to her feet. She had a heart-shaped face and light olive skin with small, dark green butterfly-wing OCtattoos flowing back from each hazel eye. She wore an oversize white toweling robe like defensive armor; she kept clutching at the fluffy fabric, pulling it tighter around her. Her bare feet had silver rings around each toe.

“We’re from navy intelligence,” Tarlo said. “Lieutenant Kampasa and I are investigating what happened to you.”

“You mean, how gullible I was,” she snapped.

“Easy, babe,” Isabella Halgarth said. Her arm went around Trisha’s shoulders. “These are the good guys.” She stood to face the investigators.

Renne found herself having to look up slightly; Isabella was several centimeters taller than she, almost Tarlo’s height. She was dressed in very tight jeans that showed off her legs. Her long blond hair had been gathered into a single tail that reached down to her hips. It was an image of casual elegance.

Tarlo’s grin had broadened. Renne wanted to push him against a wall and shout a warning about professional conduct, wagging her finger in his face for emphasis. Instead, she did her best to ignore the mating dance appraisals going on all around her, and said, “I’ve investigated several similar cases, Ms. Halgarth. In my experience, the victim is rarely gullible. The Guardians have developed a very sophisticated operation over the years.”

“Years!” Catriona snorted. “And you haven’t caught them yet?”

Renne kept her polite expression in place. “We believe we are close to a resolution.”

The three girls exchanged doubtful looks. Trisha sat down again, gripping at her robe.

“I know it’s unpleasant for you,” Tarlo said. “But if you could start by telling me the man’s name.” His grin mellowed to sympathetic encouragement.

Trisha gave a reluctant nod. “Sure. Howard Liang.” She smiled feebly. “I don’t suppose that’s his real name?”

“No,” Tarlo said. “But that identity will have created a lot of data within Daroca’s cybersphere. Our forensic software teams will pull out a great many associated files. We can check on the false identity information, where it was inserted, possibly who was involved forging it. Every little bit helps.”

“How did you meet?” Renne asked.

“Party. We get to quite a lot of them.” She glanced at her two girlfriends for support.

“This is a great city,” Isabella said. “Daroca is a wealthy planet; people here have the money and time to play.” Her eyes gave Tarlo an amused glance.

“Trish and I are Dynasty, Catriona is a Grandee. What can I say? We’re highly desirable.”

“Was Howard Liang wealthy?” Renne asked.

“He didn’t have a trust fund,” Trisha said, then colored. “Well, he said he didn’t. His family was supposed to come from Velaines. He said he was a couple of years out of his first rejuve. I liked him.”

“Where did he work?”

“On the commodities desk at Ridgeon Financial. God, I don’t even know if that’s true.” She pressed her free hand against her forehead, rubbing hard. “I don’t know how old he really was. I know nothing about him at all. That’s what I hate most about this. Not that he stole my author certificate, not that he gave me a memory wipe. Just…being taken in like that. It’s so stupid. Our family security office sends us enough warnings. I never thought they applied to me.”

“Please,” Tarlo said. “Don’t blame yourself. These guys are very professional. Hell, I’d probably get taken in by them. Now, when did you last see him?”

“Three days ago. We went out for the evening. I’d been invited to the Bourne club, there was some event, a new drama series launch. We had a meal afterward, then I came home. I think. The apartment domestic array says I got in at five in the morning. I don’t remember anything after dinner. Is that when they did it?”

“Possibly,” Renne said. “Did Mr. Liang share his apartment with anyone?”

“No. He lived by himself. I met a couple of his friends; I think they were from Ridgeon. We only went out for a couple of weeks. Enough for me to drop my guard, I guess.” She shook her head angrily. “I hate this. The whole Commonwealth thinks I believe the President is an alien. I’ll never be able to face anyone at work again. I’ll have to go back to Solidade and get my face changed and use another name.”

“That would probably help,” Tarlo said gently. “But before that we need to run some tests on you. There’s a medical forensic team waiting down in the lobby. They can do this in a clinic, or here, whichever you’re comfortable with.”

“Do it here,” Trisha said. “Just get it over with.”

“Of course. Another team will sweep his apartment.”

“What do you expect to find there?” Isabella asked.

“We’ll pin down his DNA, of course,” Renne told her. “Who knows what else we’ll uncover, especially if they used it as their base. And we’ll pull his files from Ridgeon Financial’s personnel records, which I’d like you to verify. It would help to have a picture of him.”

“Won’t he have had reprofiling by now?” Catriona asked.

“Yes. But it’s his background we’ll be focusing our investigation on, his past. That’s where the clues to his origin are. You must understand, we have to crack the whole Guardian organization open; it’s the only way to bring Liang to justice. We’re not pursuing him singularly.”

They spent another twenty minutes in the loft apartment, taking statements from the girls, then handed them over to the medical forensic team. Renne was halfway to the door when she stopped and gave the big living room a thoughtful examination. Trisha was going into her bedroom with two of the forensic team.

“What?” Tarlo asked.

“Nothing.” She gave Catriona and Isabella a last look before leaving.

“Come on,” he said in the elevator back down to the lobby. “I know you. Something’s bugging you.”

“Déjà vu.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen this crime scene before.”

“Me too. Every time the Guardians shotgun the unisphere the boss sends us out to have a look around.”

“Yeah, so you should have recognized it, too. Remember Minilya?”

Tarlo frowned as the doors opened. They walked out into the lobby.

“Vaguely; it was four years ago. But that was a bunch of guys sharing an apartment.”

“Oh, so what? You’re going sexist on me? It’s different because it’s girls?”

“Hey!”

“It was exactly the same setup, Tarlo. And we’ve seen the all-girls group before as well.”

“On Nzega, April Gallar Halgarth. She was part of a holiday group.”

“Buwangwa, too, don’t forget.”

“Okay, so what’s your point?”

“I don’t like repetition. And the Guardians know we’ll catch them a whole lot easier if they stick to the same pattern.”

“I don’t see a pattern.”

“It’s not a pattern, exactly.”