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art that will serve you well throughout life.” The detective was running a small handheld sniffer along the floor beside the bed. “No sign of any vidcaz hidden in this part of the room either.”
    â€œSo you’re suggesting that Detective Busino may suspect I wasn’t telling him everything I know?”
    â€œEven Little Red Riding Hood would’ve seen through you.”
    â€œYou think he suspects I know why those thugs broke in here?”
    â€œHe must have an inkling that you were keeping something back, sí .”
    â€œActually, I do some lying in the course of my teaching work. I have to lie to parents now and then, to students, even to my department heads. You’d think, therefore, that—”
    â€œAh, but lying to civilians is much easier.”
    A frown suddenly touched Richard’s forehead. He jumped up, hurried over to a stack of cassettes they’d already sorted through. “Wait now,” he said. “Yes, wait a minute.” He grabbed up a vidcaz and held it up.
    â€œEh?”
    â€œThis one was made at a small Larson-Dunn dinner party we had here about a year ago.” He approached the wallplayer. “It was a dreadful affair that they pressured Eve into having. For some paroled swindler who was planning to write a faxbook about his colorful career.”
    Grunting slightly, Gomez rose to his feet and pocketed the sniffer. “You think this is the very cassette those two pendejos were seeking?”
    â€œNo, but I just now recalled something about this particular gathering.” He thrust the caz into the slot. “Show me—what the hell was his name? Larry Seagrove, that’s it. Yeah, show me something with Larry Seagrove talking.”
    â€œLarry Seagrove,” repeated the voxbox of the machine.
    â€œHe’s on the list,” muttered Gomez.
    There was a brief humming, a faint clicking. Then a scene blossomed on the wall.
    Richard inhaled sharply, then closed his lips tightly together.
    His wife was up there on the wall, looking very pretty, standing near a living-room window that looked out on the twilit city.
    â€œLet’s see Seagrove,” said Richard, anger in his voice.
    â€œComing up.”
    A wider shot showed a handsome, though going to fat, man of about forty-five standing beside Eve. He held a glass of dark ale in one hand; his other hand, pudgy tanned fingers, was stroking her bare upper arm. “What’s that asshole doing here?” he was asking.
    â€œLarry, love, we’re taping this whole evening, remember?”
    â€œSo putting this fiasco on tape makes Elroy not an asshole?”
    â€œThat’s enough.” Richard bent his head low, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
    The image of his wife and the pudgy man faded and the wall was empty.
    â€œI only met Seagrove once.” Richard’s voice was husky. “But I ought to have recognized that slurred, drunken voice of his.”
    â€œHe’s the cabrón who phoned you last night?”
    â€œI’m certain of it,” he answered. “Seeing that label on the vidcaz earlier must’ve triggered my memory. Yes, he’s the one who called me.”
    â€œThis gordito works at Larson-Dunn, too, doesn’t he?”
    Richard stared at him for a few silent seconds. “He does, but how’d you know that?”
    Gomez looked away. “We have a list of all the employees. It’s an unusual name and it stuck in my cabeza .”
    â€œYes, he worked with Eve here in Manhattan.”
    Gomez went to the open doorway. “Jake,” he called into the living room. “Cease your labors for a moment and get in here, por favor .”
    â€œFound something?”
    â€œNot what we were looking for, but interesting nonetheless.”

7
    â€œD AMN IT, I can handle this myself,” Richard insisted to Jake.
    They were standing in the living room, toe to toe.
    â€œProbably so,”