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intelligent, the fact that he hadn’t wiped the knob indicated he either hadn’t entered through the front door or had worn gloves. Probably gloves.
    She glanced at Enrique. “You find signs of forced entry on any doors or windows?”
    “No.”
    “Major Talbot was home alone?”
    “As far as we know.”
    “Do you know if he went into work today or—”
    “The lunch plates in the kitchen suggest he took the day off. Either that or he came home early.”
    I scribbled a mental note to check with Talbot’s co-workers.
    Amanda’s eyes went to an electronic keypad on the wall. “How about the alarm? Was it on or off?”
    “What Simon got from Mrs. Chang was that it was off when she arrived. He couldn’t confirm with her whether Talbot usually set the alarm when he was home. Odds are he did. We also can’t rule out that the killer jumped him while he was outside.”
    Amanda and I were thoughtful at this possibility.
    “Anyway,” Enrique said, “Mrs. Johnson can probably tell us.” He picked imaginary lint off his suit and turned to go.
    Amanda said, “Mrs. Johnson?”
    Enrique was disappearing down the corridor. Amanda and I trailed after him, our heels clicking on the marble floor. We came to a game room. In addition to a pool table and a dart board, I noticed a single gold cross on otherwise bare walls.
    Amanda repeated her question about Mrs. Johnson. This time Enrique answered; she was another housekeeper.
    “Works part-time. Simon tried calling her, but she’s not home.”
    We passed a bathroom, then a well-equipped gym. Each contained a single cross on the walls and nothing else. Since we were obviously in the leisure section of the house, I finally deciphered Talbot’s logic when it came to displaying religious symbols. In rooms that served a strictly functional or nonreligious purpose, he’d hung up a solitary gold cross and left it at that.
    From a doorway at the far end, we heard a woman’s voice. Her tone was soft and soothing, as if addressing a child. “It’s okay, baby. I won’t hurt you. I only want to turn your head a little. There. That wasn’t so bad…”
    “Dr. Cantrell,” Amanda said.
    To clarify something Enrique had mentioned, I said to him, “Earlier you indicated that Talbot wasn’t necessarily close to his killer—”
    “No, but he must have known him. Why else would he let him in the house?”
    My point exactly.
    We were almost to the end room. Dr. Cantrell was still talking. Enrique slowed to a stop and appraised me. “We’re also pretty sure that the killer must have visited the house before.”
    “Why?”
    “Because of where he chose to kill Talbot.” Enrique nodded toward the open doorway just ahead. “It’s a soundproofed media room.”
    Amanda nodded grimly at the implication. I could only shake my head.
    “Yeah,” Enrique added, his voice hardening. “The cold-blooded bastard knew exactly where to take Talbot so he could work on him. He wanted a place where Talbot could scream his head off and no one would hear—”
    He broke off, looking past us. Amanda and I turned at the sound of clicking heels.
    A man in a long-tailed black tuxedo was entering the hallway, listening to a cell phone. His face was locked in a grimace. Moments later, he ended the call with a tight-lipped: “Yes, sir. We’ll be expecting you.”
    Tucking his cell phone into his jacket, he continued toward us, his eyes shifting between Amanda and me as if confused by something. A hesitant smile played across his lips.
    “I’m glad you could make it.”
    I had the distinct feeling Lieutenant Simon Santos wasn’t talking to me.
     
    Smoothly elegant.
    Those two words fit Simon to a T, and not only because he happened to be wearing a tuxedo instead of his trademark dark blue Brooks Brothers suit. A youthful thirty-eight, he was tall and dark, with a gaunt, unlined face topped by longish black hair combed straight back. Most people who meet him for the first time are unsettled by his