She looked down at Riker, eyes narrowing. „So, you’re still backing Coffey.“

„You mean his little spiel on dead cops? That was part of your education, kid. You needed to hear it.“ He climbed the steps to join her on the staircase. „But I’m on your side. Always have been.“

Not always, not yesterday.

Charles had disappeared back inside the platform room. And now a tangle of twisted metal was slowly rising from the square opening in the floorboards. It resembled mangled umbrella bones as it hovered for a moment before toppling over in a crash of wire and steel. Then it was dragged back down again, and Charles’s smiling face popped out of the opening. From Mallory’s position on the stairs, it appeared that his head had been severed and carelessly left on the floorboards.

„Still has a few bugs to work out,“ said the grinning head.

As Charles slowly sank below the level of the stage floor, Riker whistled in appreciation. „Now that’s cool.“

Mallory was staring at the paper sack clutched in the detective’s hand. „Did you get my gun back from Coffey?“

„You mean the cannon?“ He shook his head. „The lieutenant says you’ll have to make do with your.38. Remember the one the department gave you when you signed up? The legal gun?“

„Does he think I’m going to run amok through another crowd?“

„No,“ said Riker. „I think he’s still holding a grudge for the rat shooting. Some people are buggy about dogs. The lieutenant’s gone soft on rats with pet names.“

Charles’s head reappeared at the square opening in the stage floor. „You shot the man’s pet rat?“

Mallory turned on the talking head. „Charles, don’t start with me.“

He ducked down into the platform, and she could barely hear his muffled muttering: „I’m sure the rat had it coming.“

Riker climbed to the top of the platform and crouched down by the trapdoor. Leaning over the opening, he said, „The rat was named Oscar.“

„Could’ve been worse,“ Charles’s voice called up from the hole. „It’s not like she shot Coffey’s dog.“

Mallory looked up to the high ceiling. After a quiet moment of self-censorship, she faced her partner. „Did you get anything useful?“

„Hey,“ said Riker, walking back toward the staircase. „Would I come empty-handed?“

Charles remained undercover, saying, „Not while she still has two guns left.“

She climbed to the top of the stairs and stood next to Riker, ignoring the other face smiling up at her from the dark square in the floor. „Did you at least get the files on Oliver Tree?“

„Don’t need ‘em.“ Riker dipped one hand into his paper sack and pulled out a manila folder. „The West Side cops got tired of being ambushed by reporters, so they issued a press release. It’s all in here. The papers will get it in the morning.“

She took the folder from his hand and opened it to see only two sheets of spare text. Not good enough. „You didn’t talk to the West Side detective, did you?“

„Lieutenant Coffey nixed that idea. Remember? But it doesn’t matter.“ He tapped the folder in her hand. „You got all the facts. Nothing wrong with the crossbows. They all checked out. The handcuffs belonged to the cops in the act. Nobody could’ve tampered with ‘em. What got the old man killed was his own cuff key. It was broken off in the handcuffs.“

Mallory was unconsciously crumpling the sheets in her hand. „What about Oliver Tree’s executor? Did he give you the breakdown on the will?“

„Never talked to him. He’s on a cruise ship for the next three days.“

So Riker had not done either of the scheduled interviews. Yet he seemed pleased with himself. „That’s it, Mallory. Accidental death. If the key hadn’t broken, the old guy would still be alive.“

„For a few million dollars, somebody might’ve tampered with it. I need the executor’s copy – “

„It’s an old piece of metal. You don’t have to spend good money on lab reports to see that. No marks, no cut points.“

„Did you get the name of the executor’s cruise line?“

„What for? It’s an accidental death. We can’t lean on the executor for information, and we sure as hell can’t drag him off a cruise ship. It was a waste of time anyway. Fat chance a lawyer would give me the time of day without a warrant.“ Riker handed her the brown paper bag. „That’s a present from one of the cops in the old man’s magic act.“

She pulled out a pair of handcuffs. „No evidence bag? No paperwork?“

„Kid, they never get that fancy for an accidental death.“

For Riker’s benefit, she made a show of studying the handcuffs. A week ago, she had made a more careful examination while this evidence was shackled to the wrist of a cadaver on Dr. Slope’s autopsy table. But she had neglected to mention that morgue visit to Riker.

Mallory pointed to the broken shaft of metal protruding from the lock. „Where’s the rest of it?“

„Never satisfied, are you? The uniforms never found the other piece.“ Riker unbuttoned his coat, preparing to stay awhile. „Now the cop who owns those cuffs – he’ll keep his mouth shut. Coffey won’t know we’ve been talking to anybody in the uptown precinct.“

As if I care. So the manacles had never been processed. „No paper to show a chain of possession. Useless for court evidence.“

„Look at them, Mallory. There’s a broken key jammed in the damn lock. That cinches the accident finding.“

She descended the stairs and stood by a floor lamp, holding the manacles close to the bulb. The broken section of metal was both bright and dark. „This is evidence of murder – or it would’ve been if anybody’d done their job right.“ And Mallory included Riker in this defamation.

Last week, she had been the only cop to attend the postmortem for Oliver Tree. Dr. Slope had closed the little man’s frightened eyes and denied her request, calling it unnecessary and ghoulish. The medical examiner had not even cut into the body, for accidents did not merit full autopsies. Finally, Mallory had done the job herself. She had taken up Slope’s hammer and broken the little carpenter’s hand, rather than damage evidence by removing the broken key or sawing through the metal bracelet.

And after she had so carefully and ruthlessly preserved the handcuffs, what had the West Side detective done? He had tossed them back to the cop who owned them – a damned souvenir.

What could she salvage? „If I give these cuffs to Heller, he’ll say it was an old key shined up to – “

„Heller’s not gonna say squat.“ Riker came down the stairs, stepping slowly and shaking his head. „Forensics isn’t gonna waste time or money on this. And your favorite suspect? You really think that old man left his money to a junkie? Think about it, kid. Why would the nephew kill to inherit millions, and then take a hundred bucks to do that crossbow stunt in the parade? Does that sound like a hot murder suspect with a money motive?“

No, but the nephew was still useful. „You’re not planning to mention that little detail to Coffey, are you?“

Now Riker had the look of a man discovering that his drink had been watered down. „You never liked that junkie for a suspect. You scammed Coffey, didn’t you?“

Mallory was rigid, silently waiting for her anger to pass off. If Riker had only believed in the gunman at the parade, she wouldn’t have needed a scam to keep her in the game.

„Maybe you’re both right.“ Charles was fitting the base of a pedestal into a steel well on the staircase. Three clockwork gears of tarnished brass formed a column four feet tall. „The Lost Illusion was dangerous. Suppose Oliver compounded his risk by using an old key?“

„I don’t think he was that stupid.“ Mallory teased the piece of broken metal out of the lock with her fingernails. „But planting an old key was a good idea for the killer. A weakness in a new key would stand out in a test for metal fatigue.“