“Down the hall to your left,” she replied.

“I thought you’d know,” Dino shot back as he left the room.

When he had gone, Stone closed the door. “I’d like to apologize for my partner’s conduct,” he said to her gently. “He’s under a lot of pressure on this case – we both are – and he sometimes gets a little worked up.”

Morgan looked relieved. “I understand,” she said. “It’s been a strain on me, too.”

Has it? Stone wondered. “I take it you knew Sasha quite well,” he said. He had no reason to suppose that; it was a shot in the dark.

Morgan nodded, but did not speak.

“Did…” Stone stopped. Another stab. “Were you in love with her?” he asked softly.

Morgan nodded again, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Stone said. “I know how hard all this must have been for you.” Yet another stab. “Was Sasha in love with you?”

Morgan wiped a cheek and looked directly at him. “Yes,” she said firmly.

“Did she tell you so?”

“She showed me,” Morgan replied.

“How long had the two of you been… seeing each other?”

“A couple of months,” Morgan said, drying another tear. She was composing herself now.

“And when was the last time you saw Sasha?”

“The night before she… disappeared.” She was calm now, and ready to talk.

“Where did you see her?”

“At my apartment. We always met there.”

“Did she stay the night?”

“Most of it. Sasha always left around four. She couldn’t be seen…”

“I understand.”

“Ms. Morgan, do you think Sasha might have been inclined to try to take her own life?”

“I… I don’t know. She was up and down a lot. She’d have these highs, when nothing could get her down; then she’d sink into these depressions. They never lasted long, but they were intense. She could be difficult to be with during those times. Maybe, in the depths of one of those, she might have… impulsively… done something. I just don’t know.”

“Would you characterize these mood swings as manic-depressive?”

“I’m not sure. From what I know about that condition, people who have it are unable to function when they’re depressed. Sasha could always function, and function brilliantly, no matter what her mood. She had a will of iron.”

Stone looked Hank Morgan up and down. She was five nine or ten, a hundred and forty-five, with an athletic, even muscular build. She looked as though she worked out regularly. “Ms. Morgan,” he asked, “where were you after midnight the night Sasha fell?”

“I was at home in bed,” she replied firmly.

“Were you alone?”

Now Morgan looked away. “No.”

“I think I’d better have the name of that person,” Stone said.

“Is it absolutely necessary?”

“I’m sorry, but it is. I want you to know, though, that I’ll do what I can to keep this information from becoming public. I understand your position.”

“Her name is Chelsea Barton. She’s a set designer here.”

“I’ll have to speak with her.”

“Her office is the other side of the reception area, on this floor.”

Dino came back into the room.

“I think we’re about finished here,” Stone said. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan. I very much appreciate your cooperation.” Dino stepped back into the hall, and Stone followed, then stopped. He turned back to the woman. “Ms. Morgan, was Sasha seeing anyone else that you know of?”

Morgan flushed. “Yes, she was. A man. She would never tell me who, but I had the feeling it had been going on for a long time.”

“Do you think it might have been someone she worked with?”

“I honestly don’t know. Sasha didn’t give much away.”

“Thank you again.”

On their way down the hall, Stone filled Dino in on his conversation with Hank Morgan.

Dino whistled. “So Sasha swung both ways, huh? How about that?”

“There was nothing in her diary to indicate it,” Stone said.

“She had a lot to lose,” Dino replied. “She wouldn’t have written that down.”

They found the office of Chelsea Barton. A rather dumpy young woman looked up from her desk as they knocked.

Stone started to introduce himself.

“Yes,” Barton said, interrupting him. “I was with Hank Morgan. All night. Anything else?”

“Thank you,” Stone said, “no.”

Back in the car Dino turned to Stone. “So, if Morgan is in love with the gorgeous Sasha, what’s she doing in the sack with Miss Beanbag the very next night?”

“That crossed my mind,” Stone said.

“I think Morgan looks good for it. Pansies are always bashing each other’s heads in with hammers, and all for love.”

“Lesbians don’t fit that mold.”

“Still, you see the build on that bitch? Sasha was little, compared to her. I think Morgan could have tossed her, no problem.”

“I think so, too. But how are you going to break that alibi? Miss Beanbag looked pretty tough to me.”

“She was on the interview list, so we’ve got her address. I think I’ll do a little checking into her whereabouts that night,” Dino said. “Maybe I can place her somewhere else.”

“You do that, and we might have something for Deputy Commissioner Waldron.”

The phone was ringing as Stone reached his desk. He picked it up. “Hello.”

“Detective Barrington?” a husky voice said.

“Yes, speaking.”

“This is Hank Morgan.”

“Yes, Ms. Morgan. Did you think of something else?”

“I… I lied to you, I’m afraid.”

“How so?”

“I was at home alone the night Sasha fell. Chelsea wasn’t with me. She said that to protect me, but I realize this is serious, and I don’t want to involve her. I hope you’ll for get that I didn’t tell you the truth the first time; I’m telling you the truth now.”

“All right, we’ll forget your first statement and leave Chelsea out of it.”

“Thank you.”

“What time did you get home that night?”

“I worked on the evening news, so it would have been about eight thirty.”

“Did anyone see you? The doorman, maybe?”

“I live in a walk-up in the West Village. There’s no doorman.”

“Anybody else? A neighbor?”

“No. There are only two apartments in the building, and my downstairs neighbor was on vacation.”

“Did you go out again for any reason?”

“No. I read until about eleven, then I went to sleep.”

“I see. Ms. Morgan, I’d like you to come up to the Nineteenth Precinct to be fingerprinted. It might help us eliminate you as a suspect.”

She paused for a long time. “I don’t think I want to do that,” she said. “I’ve already talked to a lawyer, and he advised me not to cooperate any further than this.”

“That’s your right,” Stone said. “But I have to tell you that the Supreme Court doesn’t consider being fingerprinted to be self-incriminating. We may have to insist.”

“I suppose that’s your right,” she replied. “But I haven’t done anything wrong, and you don’t have any real reason to suspect me. So I won’t be having anything else to say.”

“I’m sorry you’ve decided to do it this way, Ms. Morgan.”

“Good afternoon, Detective Barrington.” She hung up.

Stone told Dino about their conversation.

“Bingo!” Dino cried. “Let’s go see Leary.”

“Wait a minute,” Stone said. “I just remembered something.” He went to the evidence room, dug out Sasha Nijinsky’s financial records, and began leafing through her checkbook.

“What are you looking for?” Dino asked.

“I remember some checks Sasha wrote. Here! One… two… three of them, all made out to Henrietta Morgan! The name meant nothing to me at the time.” He totted up the amounts in his head. “Total of twenty thousand dollars over eight weeks, listed as loans. You know what this smells like, Dino?”

“Blackmail!” Dino yelled. “Miss Hank says, ‘Pay me, Sasha, or I’ll tell all!’ Let’s go see Leary!”

Leary beamed at them. “I knew good police work was going to break this case.” He chortled. “Pick her up right now.” He reached for the phone. “I’ll call Delgado; he’ll call Waldron.”