Shallow Graves

of them.“
    “Fucking right to be,“ said Primo casually.
    “Your daughter-in-law wanted you to scare Puriefoy off.“
    “Yeah. So I asked Primo, could he stop by, pay the guy a visit, let him know what’s what.“
    I looked at Primo, who just nodded.
    Danucci said, “What difference does it make, who Primo scared off?“
    “Except for Puriefoy and Sinead Fagan, I’m not sure anybody else knew your granddaughter was connected.“
    The old man thought about that. “So, one of the others, he didn’t know my Tina was my Tina, eh?“
    “Or her father’s daughter. To everybody else, she’s just a beautiful young model, but not otherwise dangerous.“
    Danucci nodded. “It’s a possibility. Anything else you need to know?“
    “Why didn’t Primo scare off Larry Shinkawa, too?“
    Danucci stared at me. “Claudette, she never told me about the Jap. Besides, he’s an Oriental, more her own kind. Probably Claudette, she knows about him, she don’t have no problem with him.“
    “And Joey?“
    “The fuck do I know? He married one, right?“

    Danucci offered to have Primo drive me back to my condo, but I chose to walk instead. The two miles cleared my head a little as I thought things through.
    If Mau Tim was wearing the necklace to the party, or just admiring it while she waited for her hah to dry, it would explain how she had the marks from it on her throat without the “burglar“ holding it in his hands. If somebody outside the family had a key to the front door of the building, and at least Yulin and Lindqvist had access to one at the agency, then somebody outside the family could have gotten in that way. If Larry Shinkawa was wrong about hearing somebody on the fire escape, then the killer could have gone down it after Shinkawa first knocked at Mau Tim’s apartment door and while Fagan, Puriefoy, and Shinkawa were back at the door before they broke it down. Close timing, awfully close, but just possible.
    I decided to spend Monday checking those “ifs.“ But it wasn’t Monday yet.

    “Oh, John, he can’t beg anymore.“
    “I wasn’t trying to get him to beg. The chicken just stuck to my fingers a little.“
    Renfield was under Nancy’s glass-topped coffee table. She and I were sitting cross-legged on the floor on either side of it, enjoying the tail end of a Thai take-out I’d brought back with me. While I was gone, Nancy had changed into a white cotton safari shirt and red tennis shorts. The cat was doing noticably better in attitude, though he still moved like a newborn foal.
    After I gave him another bit of white meat, Renfield tried to worm his way over my ankles. At first he purred and led with a paw the way he had the first night. Then he began to cry a little.
    From the other side of the table, Nancy watched him through the glass. “Renfield, what’s gotten into you?“
    I said, “Beats me.“
    When the cat wouldn’t quit crying, I put down my utensils and lifted him gendy onto my lap. “Paws off the table, right?“
    Renfield gave my hand a lick and purred loudly.
    Nancy dropped her fork. “I don’t believe this.“
    “Believe what?“
    “When I left him at the vet’s, I would have bet he’d bite your arm off. And now...“
    I said, “I was around when he was hurting. He’s just imprinted on me a little.“
    “Imprinted.“
    “That’s what the vet said. It’ll probably wear off.“
    Renfield started licking my belt buckle.
    Nancy said, “Could this have anything to do with the cushions?“
    “What cushions?“
    She arched her head backward. “The seat cushions from the couch. They do come off, as you’ll remember from the night he got hurt. After you left to get fresh clothes, I noticed they weren’t arranged zipper-to-back the way I always have them.“
    At the sound of the word “zipper,“ the cat shifted his attention southward.
    I said, “Renfield trashed the living room while I was asleep in your bed. I did my best to cover for him.“
    The cat found the tab of my zipper, got one of his teeth through the little hole, and started to tug down on it.
    I said, “Renfield, you’re embarrassing me.“
    “He just doesn’t have quite the right angle.“ Nancy slowly got up from her haunches. “Here, let me.“

- 24 -

    On Monday morning, I drove Nancy to work and then stopped at the condo to shower and change. By ten o’clock I was walking through the doors of Berry/Ryder and asking the still-stunning receptionist for Larry Shinkawa.
    I watched her