Secret Prey

paintball thing with him?’’
    ‘‘No—he doesn’t even know that I know about it. But I know a friend of his, and he saw us together, and he told me. I thought it was weird.’’
    ‘‘Huh.’’ Lucas rubbed his chin, then looked at Sherrill. ‘‘What do you think?’’
    ‘‘I think I should check with Amoco,’’ Sherrill said. ‘‘And maybe start talking to people about Robles.’’
    Lucas pointed a finger at Bonet: ‘‘If this checks out, we’ll forget about it. But you keep your mouth shut about what happened. And what you told us. You don’t talk to Robles about it, or anyone else. And remember what’s at stake here. I’m talking about mom.’’
    ‘‘Okay,’’ she said, solemnly. A tear started in one eye.
    ‘‘Okay,’’ Lucas said. And to Sherrill: ‘‘Call Amoco.’’
    ON THE WAY BACK TO HIS OFFICE, LUCAS BUMPED into an assistant public defender heading toward Homicide. She was carrying two briefcases, apparently full of briefs, which bumped alternately against her thighs as she walked. Her hair stood out from her round face in an electrocution halo. Her face was drawn with lack of sleep.
    ‘‘on your way to see marcy sherrill?’’ lucas asked.
    She stopped and said, ‘‘Yeah. But if you’re not done with the rubber hoses, I could wait. Maybe catch a nap.’’
    ‘‘We’re all done. We beat the truth out of her and she’s innocent,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘We’re turning her loose in a few minutes.’’
    ‘‘Really?’’ The lawyer yawned and said, ‘‘God, I’ve gone to bed with men who’ve said less pleasant things to me.’’
    ‘‘Yeah, well . . . sleep tight.’’
    ‘‘Won’t let the bedbugs bite,’’ she said with another yawn, and humped the briefcases on down the hall toward Homicide. Had to see for herself.
    LUCAS SAT IN HIS OFFICE, HIS FEET ON HIS DESK, AND added up the accusations. After a while he picked up the phone and called Sherrill. ‘‘All done?’’
    ‘‘Yeah. She checked out with Amoco. She’s gotta do some paperwork, then she’s outa here.’’
    ‘‘Who’s loose? Besides you.’’
    ‘‘Tom Black is sitting in a corner, reading Playgirl ,’’ she said. From somewhere behind her, her regular partner shouted, ‘‘I am not.’’ Black was gay, but still mostly in the closet.
    ‘‘Why don’t you guys come on down? I’ll tell you about it,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Almost time to quit.’’
    ‘‘It’ll take ten minutes, and we won’t do anything until tomorrow.’’
    BLACK, PRETENDING TO BE DISGRUNTLED, SLUMPED in one of Lucas’s two visitor’s chairs, while Sherrill looked out the window at the street.
    Lucas was saying, ‘‘. . . if somebody accused, say, Sloan of deliberately setting out to murder somebody, and actually doing it, I’d say, ‘Nope, he couldn’t do that.’ The idea might occur to him, but someplace along the way, he just wouldn’t do it.’’
    ‘‘So?’’ Sherrill asked.
    ‘‘We’ve got too many people to worry about, all of them with motives. So what we do is, we go around to people who know them well, and ask for a confidential assessment. Could they do it? Would they do it? What would have to be on the line for them to do it?’’
    Black cocked his head to one side and thought about it for a moment: ‘‘That’s weird.’’
    ‘‘And it could ship us off in a completely wrong direction,’’ Sherrill said. ‘‘You’ve already decided Bone didn’t do it, because you like him.’’
    ‘‘No,’’ Lucas said, shaking his head. ‘‘I do like him, but I haven’t decided anything about him.’’
    ‘‘But if you like him, you’re sort of predisposed not to believe bad stuff.’’
    Black ticked a finger at her: ‘‘Psychobabble,’’ he said.
    ‘‘Sorry,’’ she said. Then, ‘‘What about O’Dell and the kaffiyeh? Who’s gonna check that?’’
    ‘‘I’ll ask her,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Tomorrow?’’
    ‘‘Yeah.’’ He yawned. ‘‘Tomorrow.’’

NINE

    MARY WASHINGTON CALLED AT NINE-THIRTY, AND when Weather Karkinnen picked up the phone, Mary said, ‘‘Oh good, you’re still up,’’ and Weather rolled her eyes and lied: ‘‘Just barely.’’
    ‘‘Henri asked about you again today. He’s interested,’’ Washington said.
    ‘‘Oh, my God, Mary, why don’t you go after him?’’ Exasperation, but also a little tingle of pleasure?
    ‘‘ ’Cause I’m ‘Let’s have a couple beers and go bowling,’ and Henri’s