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said, somewhat gently.
    “Yes, my secretary told me. I can assure you that, whatever it is, I didn’t do it. I’ve got witnesses.” Finn hoped his joke would help lighten the mood. It didn’t. Flaherty’s smile was indulgent at best, and Kozlowski just kept staring straight through the back of Finn’s head.
    “Mr. Finn,” she began again.
    “Please, it’s just Finn. Nobody ever calls me ‘Mister.’”
    “Mr. Finn, we need to ask you some questions about Natalie Caldwell.”
    That got Finn’s attention. He’d been craned forward over his desk, trying to draw the officers in and establish some rapport. He immediately leaned back in his chair when he heard Natalie’s name. He was protective by nature, and he didn’t like the idea of the police asking him questions about a friend.
    His change in attitude must have been apparent, because he noticed his visitors exchange a look. The chess game had begun. He smiled again, forcing himself this time.
    “What do you want to know about Nat?” He’d learned long ago that it was always better to be the one asking questions, and he’d developed a reflex of going on the offensive when confronted with an interrogation. He wondered what Natalie had done wrong. Most likely, she’d pissed off somebody down at City Hall, he thought. She had an aggressive personality, and most men hated dealing with assertive women. As a consequence, she often made enemies. She must have really stepped on somebody’s toes this time for them to send two cops out asking questions. The thought amused him, and he suddenly felt better-equipped to deal with the meeting.
    “Well, let’s start with when you last saw her?”
    Finn regarded the attractive brunette and silently counted to five. It was another technique he’d learned over the years; always control the pace of the questioning—it throws people off. He didn’t change his expression or look away. He simply looked straight at her until he reached five.
    “Why would you want to know when I last saw her?”
    “We’re conducting an investigation that involves her. Mr. Holland, the head of your firm, indicated you’ve been her closest colleague, so we thought we should start with you.”
    “Really? An investigation involving her? Could you be a little more specific? Maybe that would help.” He was toying with her now, and enjoying it. God, she was pretty.
    “Well, we’d really like to start out by determining when it was you saw her last.”
    Just then the buzzer sounded.
Right on time.
“Yes, Nancy?” he said into the receiver. He paused as though getting some important news. “Oh, that’s right, thank you for reminding me.” He hung up the phone and looked at the officers. “I’m going to have to run to a meeting in a moment. Look, if it’s an investigation involving Natalie, maybe you should start by talking to her. Her office is right around the corner. Have you stopped by to see if she’s in there?” It was time to get rid of these two. As much as he was enjoying the joust with this good-looking cop, he had work to do and didn’t want to say anything that might put Natalie in a jam.
    “No, we haven’t. We’re pretty sure she’s not in there.”
    “How would you know if you haven’t looked?” Finn flashed them his most condescending smartass lawyer smile.
This ought to get rid of them.
    It was Kozlowski who finally answered. It was the first time he’d spoken. “Because we found her body floating in Boston Harbor last night.”
    He said it so simply, so utterly without passion or feeling or sympathy, that Finn convinced himself that he must have mis-heard. He
must
have. That was the only logical explanation. Even if Finn was being a prick, which he was, the police wouldn’t joke about something like that, particularly not to a lawyer. It would invite a lawsuit. No, it couldn’t have been a joke, and that meant Finn must have misheard the giant squeezed into the chair in front of him, because the only