"The girlfriend found him. I have her in another room with a uniform."

"None of the things I've just told you have anything to do with why he's dead. He's dead because he worked for me."

His eyes shifted back to Eve's, and the heat in them was brutal. "That's a line of inquiry I intend to pursue." Below the range of the recorder, she put a hand on his. And under her fingers she could feel the vibration of violence, ruthlessly restrained.

"I need you to wait outside. I need you to let me take care of him."

There was a moment, a bad one, where she feared he would do something, say something she would have to expunge from the record. Then his eyes cooled, a change so abrupt it brought a chill. He stepped back.

"I'll wait" was all he said, and left her.

It was a relief that Talbot's current girlfriend, Dana, had apparently cried herself out by the time Eve sat down to get her statement. Her eyes were red, and she continually sipped water as if the bout of tears had dehydrated her. But she was steady enough, and she was clear.

"We were supposed to have a late lunch date. He said he'd be ready for a break about two. It was Jonah's turn to pay."

Her lips quivered, and she bit down on the bottom one hard. "We took turns with who paid for lunch. There's a restaurant, Polo's, just over on Eighty-second, we both like. I don't live far from there, and we both take Wednesdays to work at home. I'm a literary agent with Creative Outlet. That's how we met, at an industry function a few months ago. I was late. Didn't get there until about twenty after."

She paused, sipped, closed her eyes briefly. She had a strong face, with more character than beauty. "Long 'link call from a client who needed some stroking. Jonah always jokes about me being late for everything. He calls it Dana time. So when I got there, and he hadn't shown up, I was feeling pretty smug. Planned to rib him about it. Oh, God, just a minute, okay?"

"Take your time."

This time she pressed the glass to her forehead, rolled it slowly back and forth. "About two-thirty, I thought I should give him a call, see what was going on. He didn't answer, so I waited another fifteen minutes. He could walk from here to there in five. I was half-pissed off and half-worried. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do."

"I decided to walk over to his place. Kept thinking we'd run into each other on the way, and he'd be running, have all these excuses. I was deciding whether I'd be mad or let him weasel out. Then when I got here…"

"Did you have a key to the door?"

"What?"

Her swollen eyes had glazed. Now they focused again. Good, Eve thought. You're doing good. You'll get through.

"Did you have a key or code to the door?"

"No. No, I didn't have his key or code. We hadn't taken it quite that far yet. We both wanted to keep it loose. The modern American dating couple, each cautiously guarding his own space."

A tear leaked out now, and she ignored it, let it trail down her cheek. "The door wasn't closed, not all the way. That's when I was more worried than pissed. I pushed the door open and called out. I kept telling myself he'd gotten involved in the book he was editing and lost track, but I started feeling scared. I nearly turned around and walked out, but I couldn't seem to do it. I kept calling, kept going back toward his office. Then I was at the door, and I saw him. Saw Jonah. I saw him on the floor, and the blood around his head. Sorry," she said, and quickly lowered her own between her knees.

As the dizziness passed, she saw the book on the floor. With a choked sound she picked up the battered paperback, and straightening again, smoothed the covers.

"Jonah was a story junkie. Any form. Books, discs, audio, visual. You'd find them all over his house and office, even on his boat. Can I… do you think I could keep this?"

"We're going to need to keep everything on the premises, for now. When we're done, I'll see that it gets to you."

"Thanks. Thanks for that. Okay." She took a breath, and held onto the book as if it steadied her. "After I found him, I ran outside. I think I was going to keep running, but I saw one of the patrol droids, and I called it. I sat down on the steps and started to cry."

"Did Jonah always take Wednesdays off to work at home?"

"Yes, except when he was traveling or there was a meeting scheduled he couldn't miss."

"Did you routinely have lunch with him on Wednesdays?"

"In the last two, two and a half months, we tried for a late afternoon lunch. I guess it was a routine. We both pretended we weren't in any sort of routine. Keeping it loose," she said again, and pressed tears out of her eyes.

"You were intimate?"

"We had sex, routinely." She nearly managed a smile. "We shied away from words like intimate. But neither one of us was seeing anyone else. Not for weeks now."

"I know it's very personal, but could you tell me if Mr. Talbot was in the habit of wearing body ornamentation?"

"A little silver hoop, left ball. Very silly, very sexy."

At the end of the interview, Dana had drained a second glass of water. When she got to her feet, she swayed, and Eve reached out to take her arm. "Why don't you sit down until you're steadier?"

"I'm all right. I really want to go home. I just want to go home."

"A uniformed officer will take you."

"I'd rather walk, if it's allowed. It's only a few blocks, and I… I need to walk."

"That's fine. We may have to talk to you again."

"Just no more today. Please." She walked to the door, stopped. "I think I might have been falling in love with him. I'll never know. I'll just never know now. That makes me so sad. Over this horrible wrench of what happened to Jonah, that makes me so sad."

Eve sat for a moment, just sat. There was too much going on inside her head, and she needed to streamline. She had a body on its way to the morgue, a killer methodically working his way through a job, two FBI agents who wanted to snag her case. A houseguest she couldn't quite trust and a husband who could very well be in severe jeopardy and was certainly going to cause her considerable trouble.

When Feeney walked in she was still sitting, her eyes half-closed, and her mouth in a grim line. Judging her mood, he pursed his lips, then walked over to sit on the low table in front of her. He pulled out a bag of nuts, offered it.

"You want the good news or the bad news?"

"Start with the bad. Why change the rhythm now?"

"Bad is he walked right in the front door. Guy's got himself a master and that ain't good."

"A police master?"

"That, or a good simulation. We can enhance that sector of the disc back at EDD, see if we can clean it up enough to tell for sure. Point is, Dallas, he walked right up to the door like he belonged here. Slid in a master code, and strolled inside. No question it was Yost, even without the DNA the sweepers'll pick up. Dressed spiffy – new wig, dark hair long enough to tie back in a stub at the nape. Sort of an arty look. Guess it fits in with the neighborhood."

"He knows how to blend."

"Carried a briefcase. Took the time to put the master into an outside pocket, secure it. Knew the house, too, walked right back to the office."

Eve leaned forward. "Feeney, are you telling me the house cams were activated?"

"Yeah, that's my good news." He gave her a fierce smile. "Either Yost didn't consider that or didn't give a rat's ass, but the house cams were up. I gotta figure the victim didn't remember to shut them down when he got up this morning. We got a lot of him poking around doing usual morning stuff before he settled down to work. Audio, too. It's a solid system."

She got to her feet. "He didn't think of it. Nobody keeps inside security on when they're working at home. Who wants their every fart and scratch on record? Yost missed a step, Feeney."