Shallow Graves

investigation.“
    “Not quite. Quinn told me something else I didn’t know.“
    “What was that?“
    “You had a set of Sinead’s keys at the agency.“
    “Probably still do. So?“
    “I don’t remember your mentioning that in your office either.“
    Yulin set down the glass. “I don’t remember your asking me about keys, John.“
    “I was investigating Mau Tim being killed in her apartment. You had a key to the building, but you didn’t tell me that.“
    “We’d heard that a burglar broke in. I didn’t—and frankly, I still don’t—see why keys are important. But yes, some of the models like to keep a spare set nearby, so we do have some in a petty-cash box at the agency.“
    “Sinead’s, but not Mau Tim’s.“
    “Correct.“
    There was something wrong about that, but I couldn’t quite touch it. “At your office, George, you said you went home the night Mau Tim died.“
    “Also correct. After that ad party and some pub crawling, I came back here.“
    “When did you arrive?“
    “Oh... ten? I wasn’t paying much attention, and Quinn was watching video, not TV, when I got in, so I can’t even peg it by what was on the screen.“
    “Thorough.“
    Yulin darkened. “What was that?“
    “I said thorough. Very thorough of you to think all that through in answering a simple question.“
    “Yes, well, I tend to do a lot of time management, John, both for myself and my models. It’s tough to leave some things at the office, you know?“
    “Speaking of leaving, I found something else out this afternoon.“
    “I’m glad to hear it’s been a productive day for you.“
    “It seems a lot of people think Mau Tim was about to pull the ripcord, George.“
    His face darkened again, and he reached for the whiskey bottle. “Ripcord?“
    “She was bailing out. Moving to New York and changing agencies.“
    The neck of the bottle rattled against his tall glass. “You don’t know that because it isn’t true.“
    An article of faith that Yulin couldn’t recant. I stood up. “Give Quinn my regards.“
    As I moved to the French doors, Yulin said, “John?“
    “Yes?“
    “We seem to have... We don’t appear to be on the same wavelength today. My fault—the single malt. I’m afraid.“
    “Don’t worry about it, George.“
    “No, seriously. If there is anything I can do to... facilitate this process, please let me know.“
    I nodded without saying anything more and made my way out.

- 17 -

    “John, what happened?“
    “I fell and banged my chin.“
    Standing in her living room and still dressed from work, Nancy reached up a hand, turning my face just a little under the light. “Looks more like assault and battery with a shod foot.“
    “You’ve got quite an eye, counselor.“
    “After a while. What really happened?“
    “I’m not sure how much I should tell you.“
    Nancy cocked her head, the hair still drawn back by a silver barrette.
    “I promise, Nance, I’m not doing anything over the line. It’s just that it has to do with an open homicide.“
    “The Suffolk one from Empire?“
    “Right.“
    Nancy frowned, the corners of her mouth knitting crosslines all the way up to the hairline. Then she nodded. In acceptance rather than agreement. “I’m going to cook us dinner.“
    “I was ready to take you out to eat.“
    “I’ll be in Dallas restaurants both tomorrow night and Saturday. I’d like a meal in my own home as a send-off.“
    I took her chin in my hand. “You shouldn’t try to live by bread alone, counselor.“
    “I’ve heard that.“
    “Another thing. I’ve been thinking about what you told me on your birthday.“
    “The bank robbery? The jury convicted him this morning.“
    “No, I meant what you showed me at the Ritz.“
    “What I...?“
    “About the sensitive spots. On the palm, the fingertips, the thumb.“
    “Uh-huh.“
    “I’ve come up with a few more.“
    “Really.“
    I moved my hand to the back of her open collar. “There’s this one, stroking the little hairs at the nape of the neck.“
    Nancy closed her eyes. “So far, so good.“
    I moved my hand again. “Then there’s the earlobe. Just a gentle, milking motion.“
    “Would it be rude to moo?“
    I moved my hand a third time. “Then the lips. The back of the fingernail’s best here.“
    Nancy ran the tip of her tongue along my finger.
    “Unfortunately...“ I cleared my throat. “Unfortunately, the other spots I thought of aren’t yet... accessible.“
    Nancy undid her barrette,