Three Fates

met only yesterday, one who gave me his bed because his friend asked him. A man who fixed me breakfast just this morning. A man who’s dead only because he was loyal to a friend.”
    “How did you meet Cleo?”
    “I tracked her down in Europe.”
    “Who is she in this?”
    “She’s connected to the second Fate.”
    “How?” she demanded.
    “Through ancestry. She comes down from the White-Smythes. One was a collector in London.”
    All right, Tia mused. All right. Another piece of the puzzle in place.
    “You recognize the name.” Gideon’s statement proved to Tia she’d have to work on her acting skills. “You’ve looked into it, then.”
    “I think, under the circumstances, I should be the one asking the questions.”
    “And I’ll answer them. If I could use your phone first off. I need to call my family.”
    “No, I’m sorry.”
    “I’ll call collect.”
    “You can’t use the phone. It’s tapped. Or maybe it’s tapped. Or maybe I’m just having a big, complicated hallucination after all.”
    “I’m sorry? Bugged? Your phone’s bugged?”
    “According to another surprise visitor.” She turned around. “I think, all in all, I’m really taking this very well, don’t you? I mean, here I am, with a couple of strangers in my apartment—one who is currently being sick in my powder room and the other telling me fantastic stories in the kitchen. And I’m making tea. I think even Dr. Lowenstein would agree that’s progress.”
    “I’m not following you.”
    “Why should you? Tell me why you believe Anita’s responsible for this man’s death.”
    “I’m responsible.” Cleo stood, braced against the doorway. She was still very pale, but her eyes were clear again. “He’d be alive if it wasn’t for me. I got him involved.”
    “I’m the one who got you involved,” Gideon reminded her. “So you might as well hang it on me.”
    “I’d like to, but it won’t wash. I was double-crossing you. I’d justified it, and you were going to get your share, but I was doing a shuffle on you, and I pulled Mikey into it. She must’ve had them watching the street, so when we came down after I made the deal with her, Mikey goes his way, I go mine. They split up and tail us, only I make my shadow and, being so goddamn clever, lose him. Only Mikey’s clueless, so he just bops on home, and that bastard takes him down there. If he hadn’t been with me, they wouldn’t have known he existed.”
    “None of us knew she’d resort to murder,” Gideon told her.
    “Well, we know now.” She looked at Tia.
    “If this is true, why haven’t you gone to the police?”
    “And tell them what?” Gideon jammed his hands in his pockets. “That we believe a respected businesswoman is directly responsible for the murder of a young black dancer? A murder that very likely took place while she was at some public place or in some meeting? And we tell them we know this because she’s stolen a statue while in Dublin and agreed to buy another? I suppose we can tell the police they’ll just have to take our word on it when they ask for proof of any sort. No doubt they’ll clap the cuffs on her.”
    “Regardless, you expect me to believe you.” Tia lifted the sputtering kettle off the burner.
    “Do you?” Gideon asked.
    She looked at him, then at Cleo. “Yes, I guess I do, but I intend to research if insanity runs in my family. There’s a pull-out sofa in my office here. You can use that tonight.”
    “Thanks.”
    “It isn’t free,” she told Gideon and lifted the tea tray. “From this point on, I stop being a tool and become an active participant in this little . . . quest.”
    Cleo smiled as Tia carted the tray into the living room. “Translated, Slick, the doc just informed you she’s your fucking partner.”
    “Yes, I did. Lemon or sugar?”

Twelve
     
     
     
     
    “A N accident.”Anita studied the two men whohad come to the private entrance of her office. It served her right, she supposed, for selecting brawn over brains. But really, she’d given them such a simple task, with such specific, follow-the-dots instructions.
    “The guy went nuts on me.” Carl Dubrowsky, the shorter, stockier of the two, had a belligerent expression on his pockmarked face. He’d been a bouncer at a club before Anita had enlisted him to handle a few pesky chores.
    She’d had reason to know he’d needed a job and wouldn’t quibble about a few minor legalities, as he’d been arrested twice for assault