Stratton seemed pretty familiar with one of them, a blonde in a short red dress. He had his arm around her, introducing the others to his friends. They started passing around drinks and pairing off. The fat one started dancing with a thin redhead in a waist-baring T-shirt and denim skirt.

Stratton dragged Red Dress onto a bench seat. He started kissing and feeling her up. She wrapped a long leg around him. Then he got up and took her by the arm, a bottle of champagne in the other, and with a joke to his buddies disappeared below.

“Some show,” I said to the fisherman.

“Many the night,” he said. “Sure beats the red tail this time of year.”

“WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?” Ellie rose from her kitchen table, staring at Tess’s rap sheet.

“I can’t tell you that, Ellie.” I knew how pathetic that sounded. “But it’s from someone with clout.”

“Clout?” She shook her head. “This isn’t clout, Ned. The police don’t even have this information. I’m risking everything by getting involved, and you can’t tell me who else you’re talking to?”

“If it makes you feel any better,” I said sheepishly, “I didn’t tell him about you, either.”

“Oh, great, Ned,” Ellie chortled, nodding, “that just makes everything swell. I always knew this was an inside job. Now I have no goddamn idea whose.” I saw her thinking. “If Liz set up her husband on this affair…”

“I know,” I said, finishing the thought for her, “she could’ve set him up on the art, too.”

Ellie sat back down, an expression that was part realization, part puzzlement. “Could we be all wrong about Stratton?”

“Let’s say she did set up her husband on this.” I sat down next to her. “Why go after my buddies? And why did they have to kill Dave?”

“No,” Ellie said, shaking her head, “that was Stratton. I’m sure of it. He was double-crossed. He thought it must’ve been you.”

“So who the hell is Gachet, Ellie? Liz?”

“I don’t know…” She took out a pad of paper and scribbled some notes at the counter. “Let’s just stick with what we have. We’re pretty certain Stratton had a hand in killing Tess. Clearly, he found out about the scam. And if he did, chances are good he knows his wife was behind it, too.”

“Now we know what all the bodyguards are about,” I snorted. “They’re not so much to protect her. They’re there to make sure she doesn’t run.”

Ellie curled one leg under the other, yoga-style. She picked up the rap sheet. “I figure we can either take this and hand it over to the PBPD. Who knows what they’ll do with it…”

“The person who gave it to me didn’t want me to do that, Ellie.”

“Okay, Ned.” Ellie looked at me a little crossly. “I’m game. What did he want you to do?”

“Clear myself, Ellie.”

“Clear yourself, huh? Meaning what, you and me?”

“This woman’s in a shitload of danger, Ellie. If we could get to her… If she could help us prove a connection between Stratton and Tess, maybe even the art, that would be enough, right?”

“What do you want to do, kidnap her? I told you, I already tried -”

“You tried your way, Ellie. Look -” I spun around and faced her – “don’t ask me how I know this, but I was told Liz Stratton has a standing lunch date on Thursdays down at Ta-boó on Worth Avenue. That’s the day after tomorrow.”

“Who told you this?” Ellie stared at me, a little angry now.

“Don’t ask.” I took her hand. “I told you, someone with clout.”

I searched her eyes. I knew what a risk she was already taking. But maybe this could clear me. Liz Stratton obviously knew some things.

Ellie smiled fatalistically. “This person you know has enough clout to get me out of the jail cell next to you when all of this comes out?”

I squeezed her hand. I smiled a thank-you.

“You know there’s still the little matter of the bodyguards, Ned. They’re always around her. And we can’t exactly have you coming out in public, can we? At Ta-boó.”

“No,” I agreed, shaking my head, “but fortunately, Ellie, I know just the guy.”

“SO HOW DO I LOOK?” Geoff grinned, peering coolly over his Oakleys. “Clean up pretty well for an outback grease monkey, if I say so myself. Credit the Pob store in town.”

The well-appointed front room and bar at Ta-boó was filled with the in crowd of Palm Beach. Blondes, blondes everywhere, women in pastel-colored Polo cashmere with Hermès bags; men in their Stubbs & Wootton slippers and sunglasses, Trillion sweaters draped over their shoulders, picking at stone crabs and Caesar salads, some of the best grub in Palm Beach. Several patrons looked as if they had stepped in out of the mansions on Ocean Drive.

“George Hamilton’s got nothing on you,” Ellie said, glancing over Geoff’s shoulder across the room.

Liz Stratton was seated at a corner table, having lunch with three girlfriends. Her two bodyguards were at the bar, one eye on Liz, the other drifting to another slender blonde who had just climbed out of a Lamborghini.

“Just soaking up the view,” Geoff said, smiling, “until I spring into action. Never know when I’ll get invited back here to the island.”

Ellie sipped her Perrier and lime. Her stomach had a riot going on inside. Just to be sitting in Ta-boó, she must be out of her mind. Up till now, she could make the case that she was doing her job. In a few minutes, though, if things didn’t go so well, “aiding and abetting” would be a gift plea for her.

The key was to get Liz Stratton out of the restaurant and keep the bodyguards there. Ned was waiting in back with the car. They would whisk her away, and hopefully Liz would be as eager to talk as they were to hear her.

“Jesus,” Geoff said, craning his neck and nudging Ellie with his elbow, “tell me that’s not Rod Stewart at the bar?”

“That’s not Rod Stewart. But I think I see Tommy Lee Jones.”

A waiter named Louis came up and asked if they were ready to order. “Stone crabs for me,” Geoff said, closing the menu, as though he did this every day. Ellie ordered a chicken salad. She had a receiver in her ear, wired to Ned in back. They just had to wait for the right time to make a move. Oh, brother…

A few minutes passed. The waiter came with their meals. All of a sudden, Liz Stratton stood up with one of her friends. They headed toward the ladies’ room.

“It’s happening now, Ned,” Ellie said into the wire. She cast a cautious eye at the bar. “Watch my back, Champ.”

“Just my luck. Food looks great,” Geoff groaned, looking at his just-arrived crab claws.

Ellie got out of her seat and made a beeline to Liz, intercepting her in the back of the restaurant. Liz blinked back a vague look of recognition.

Ellie leaned in as if to give her a kiss. “You know who I am, Mrs. Stratton. We know about you and Tess McAuliffe. We have to talk to you. There’s a back door straight ahead. We have a car outside. We can do this real smoothly if you come now.”

“Tess…” she said hesitantly. Then a quick eye to her guards, “No, I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, Liz,” Ellie said. “It’s either this or you go down for extortion and accessory to murder. Just don’t look behind, and follow me out the door.”

Liz Stratton stood there, unsure what to do.

“Believe me, Mrs. Stratton, no one’s looking to lay any of this on you.”

Liz Stratton twitched back a nod. “Suz, you go ahead,” she told her friend. “I’ll be in in a second.”

Ellie put her arm across Liz’s shoulders and quietly tried to propel her forward. “Ned, we’re coming out,” she said.

One of the bodyguards got up. He stood there, watching for a second, trying to gauge what was going on.

Ellie pushed Liz through the door. C’mon, Champ, now! Do your thing.

“G’day, mates.” Geoff stepped up to the bar, blocking their way. “Either of you know where a guy might find a ticket to the Britney Spears Dance America concert at the Kravis?” I think it’s at the Kravis.