“Elena-”

The child ran to the rear door. “I go, again!”

Korvutz said, “Sir, I apologize. She is very friendly.”

“I think she’s adorable.” Trying not to sound patronizing.

Korvutz’s stare said I hadn’t pulled it off.

I said, “I work with kids.”

“Doing what?”

“Child psychologist.”

“Okay,” he said, with utter disinterest. “Have a nice dinner.” Eyeing my table.

I fished out the brand-new LAPD consultant badge the chief had expressed to my house last night and placed it on the table in front of him. “When you have time, Mr. Korvutz.”

His mouth dropped open. Gray eyes behind thick lenses bulged. Despite the sparse light, his pupils had constricted to pinpoints. “What the-”

I pocketed the badge. “We need to talk. Not about you. About Dale Bright.”

He started to rise from his chair, thought better of it. Both hands clenched but remained on the table. “Get the hell out of-”

“I’ve come three thousand miles to talk to you. Dale Bright may have killed other people. Extremely messy murders.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

I stood, shielding him from scrutiny by the neighboring couple or Gio. Kept a smile on my face to feign friendly conversation.

“Dale Bright. Former chairman of the tenant board on West Thirty-fifth.”

Korvutz’s shoulders crowded his neck. His fingers grazed a butter knife.

“You’re not under suspicion. Bright is. What I need is details, anything that can help locate him.”

Spittle collected at the corner of Korvutz’s mouth. “I know nothing.”

“Just a brief talk at your convenience-”

“Again they torment me.”

“If you cooperate and help us find Bright, it’ll end any-”

“I know nothing.” Extruding the words through clenched lips.

“Even impressions. What he was like, his habits.”

“Dry eye!” announced a voice behind us.

Elena danced to my side, wadded tissue in hand.

Roland Korvutz said, “This man needs to leave.”

“No, Da-”

“Yes!”

“Daddy make me sad!”

Korvutz shot up and took her by the arm. “Life is sad. Even you can learn that.”

He pulled the child, wailing, from the restaurant.

Puzzled, Gio watched the door slam.

The tenor on the soundtrack moaned.

The young woman said, “Bringing a kid to a place like this.”

The young man smoothed a hand-stitched lapel. “Especially that kind of kid. Let’s book.”

Elegant people walked refined dogs on Park Avenue.

Roland Korvutz’s building, on the west side of the street, was ten stories of somber gray stone, each level one apartment wide.

Gleaming brass rods supported a spotless maroon awning. A carpet of some weather-resistant material that looked good enough for my house led to dead-bolted, brass-framed glass doors. The All Visitors Must Be Announced sign was the same gleaming metal. So was the call button.

Inside the lobby, a maroon-clad doorman relaxed in a carved chair and watched me watch him. Hispanic, mustachioed, too young to be the retired cop Polito had spoken to.

As I approached, he stayed put. Light from a crystal chandelier ambered the black-and-white marble checkerboard lobby floor. Dark wood panels glowed like melting chocolate.

The doorman didn’t budge until I pushed the button. Even then, his movements were languid.

He opened the door a couple of inches. “Help you?”

“I’m here for Mr. Korvutz.”

“He expecting you?”

“I sure hope so.”

“Name?”

“Dr. Delaware.”

He closed the door, got on a phone. I cooled my heels under the awning, braced for refusal, maybe a warning to cease and desist. Felt guilty about cutting Elena’s dinner short, then thought about the Safrans and suppressed my regret.

The doorman hung up, cracked the door again. “He’s comin’ down.”

Roland Korvutz emerged moments later in brown shirtsleeves, baggy gray pants, and white sneakers, cradling a tiny white Pomeranian.

I prepared for rage. His face was blank.

The doorman fulfilled his primary job description and Korvutz walked through. He pointed south, kept moving, still holding the dog.

Small man but he pumped his legs fast.

I caught up. The Pomeranian yapped happily. Licked my hand.

Korvutz said, “Everyone thinks you’re a great guy.” Small man with a big baritone. In the comparative quiet his accent was more pronounced.

“Kids and dogs,” I said. “Sometimes they’re good judges of character.”

“Bullshit,” said Korvutz. “I had rottweiler, love everyone, the worst scumbags.”

“Maybe this dog’s smarter.”

“Gigi,” said Korvutz. “That’s her name.” He fastened a pink leash to the dog’s rhinestone collar, put her down.

“Like in the movie?”

“My wife like the movie.” Shaking his head.

Gigi raced. We covered a block. Korvutz waited as Gigi explored a lamppost.

I said, “Thanks for seeing me.”

No answer.

“Sorry for ruining your dinner.”

“It not you, it woulda been something else. My daughter. She love the place, but she not ready for it.”

“Too much pressure to be quiet.”

“Sometime Elena get what they call overstimulated.”

“I meant what I said. Cute kid by any standards.”

Korvutz stared at me. “You really a shrink?”

“Want to see my license?”

He laughed. “She my only one. Got married late.”

The dog pulled on the pink leash. Korvutz said, “Okay, okay,” and allowed her to lead.

Ten steps later: “That guy Bright really kill someone?”

“Maybe a bunch of people.”

“Crazy.”

“You never suspected him for the Safrans?”

He held up a palm. “Eh-eh, them I don’t talk about, no way. Brought me nothing but bullshit.”

“All I’m concerned with is Bright-”

“Bright I meet twice? Okay? Only thing I remember is he’s a big ass-kisser. Mr. K. this, Mr. K. that. Back then my buildings got four hundred fifty tenants, four seventy-five. I’m supposed to give a shit ‘Mr. K.’?”

“What’d he ass-kiss about?”

“Trying to be my best friend, like I don’t know when I’m being rimmed.” Korvutz slowed, watched as the dog sniffed another post. Rearranged his eyeglasses. Gigi changed her mind. We resumed walking. “She take her time doing the business. C’mon, dog. I got homework to do.”

I repeated my question.

Korvutz said, “Bright had ideas. My benefit. ‘Have a tenant board, Mr. K., gonna make things smoother.’ I thought it was bullshit.”

“But you agreed.”

“Someone wanna help, it’s no skin off. I’m figuring Bright’s gonna ask for something, I want, I say no. Turns out it was nothing.”

“He never asked for anything?”

“Go figure.”

“No break on the rent?”

“Hey,” said Korvutz, “that I do before.”

“How much of a discount did you give him?”

“Who remembers – maybe coupla thousand total.”

“Goodness of your heart,” I said.

Korvutz turned to me. “Like I said, I met him twice. He want to help out, why not? In the end, it don’t help. Stupid tenant board.”

“No help with the condo-conversion.”

Scowling, he walked faster. “That building screwed me. Financed it with other properties, shoulda known better than to invest in that piece of shit. Then I got short, rates are getting worse, the banks not gonna lend unless they got you by the – the paperwork get all – crazy time it take this damn city to get something done. What the hell do you care? You want know about Dale Ass-kissey? That’s the story. Period.”

I said, “How’d he come to rent from you?”

“Referral.”

“From who?”

“What’s the difference?”

We walked until Gigi grew fascinated with the scents emanating from a trash can on the corner of Sixty-ninth.

“Go, already,” said Korvutz. “Dog.”