I felt heaviness above my eyes. I was done arguing.

“Okay, okay. Maddy was with me, you know, when I went back to see him, Dr. Robilio, to show him the tape. We both thought it would be better. At first, she went upstairs looking for him. I checked the first floor, the kitchen and living room, you know. Then I went upstairs and I caught her up in his bedroom stealing stuff. Jewelry, perfume. I mean she was looking through drawers, everything. We had a fight about it. That’s how I broke my nail, fighting with Maddy. I made her put everything back.”

Fighting? That could explain the blood in Merritt’s urine in the ER. “Did she hit you in the gut?”

She narrowed her eyes and said, “I don’t know. Why?”

“Never mind. Did Madison put everything back?”

“At first.”

“What do you mean?”

“A few minutes later I found him, downstairs, just like I said-dead. Maddy was still prowling around on the first floor. When I screamed she came downstairs, too, and saw me with him, you know, all bloody and everything. She stood in the doorway and then she ran back upstairs. I didn’t know where she went. After…you know, we got out of there. On the way back to my house, she was really cool, like level. Not panicking like me. She showed me she had stolen his keys. She kept saying these may come in handy. I was going nuts over what I’d just seen, I didn’t care that much about his keys. I mean he was dead, right? What good were his keys? What good was he to me anymore? What good was he going to be to Chaney?”

I offered her my silence as a host might offer a guest a tray of hors d’oeuvres. She could choose anything she wished, or she could choose nothing at all.

She said, “I’d like to go to bed now.”

It was almost two. I said, “Yes.”

The night was cold, even for April. My car was cold. Boulder was forty minutes away. My house was empty. My dog was well cared for.

Despite the fact that I couldn’t afford it, and without much second thought, I drove a few blocks downtown, turned my car over to a valet, and checked into the Brown Palace Hotel. A bemused bellman who was dressed much more nicely than me led me to an elegant corner room on the eighth floor. I called Lauren and left another message on her parents’ machine. I drank all the cognac from the minibar and fell asleep to something nasty on Spectravision.

The next morning I ordered coffee and juice from room service. I signed the chit the waiter handed me without even glancing at it. I was not at all interested in knowing how much my indulgence was costing.

After begging a disposable razor and toothbrush from housekeeping, I dressed in yesterday’s clothes and enjoyed an hour alone with CNN, reading the New York Times, and sipping the Brown Palace’s good coffee.

Then I called Sam’s pager.

A minute later, the phone rang by the bed. He said, “Detective Purdy returning a page.”

“Hi, Sam, it’s Alan.”

“What is this number? Where the hell are you? Adrienne said you never came home. Nurse said you left Children’s around two-thirty.”

Sam is a good detective. “I’m at the Brown Palace.”

“The Brown Palace?”

“The hotel.”

“I know it’s a hotel. What the hell are you doing at the goddamn Brown Palace?”

“Treating myself.”

A pregnant pause. “You alone?”

I laughed. “Not that kind of treat, Sam. Where are you? Boulder?”

“Right down the street at the hospital. MedExcel faxed a financial approval to the Seattle hospital first thing this morning. Maybe half an hour ago. MedExcel’s execs are shitting bricks over the possibility of Gusman’s role in this whole thing getting public. Your friend Adrienne was marvelous, she left them thinking she was doing them some huge favor. Docs here at Children’s are talking with the docs in Seattle about whether Chaney is still a candidate for the procedure. The Seattle docs want some new tests done before they accept her. That’s all happening right now.”

“How long will it take?”

“Midday if things go well. Air ambulance has already been ordered. They’re standing by for an afternoon departure. MedExcel is paying for that, too. It’s amazing how cooperative they are all of a sudden.”

“Is Chaney stable?”

“I don’t get this lung thing. She looks like death to me. But they say she’s no worse than before.”

“How are Sherry and Brenda doing?”

“So far so good. Sherry’s coming back here this morning to be with Brenda. She’s talking about going to Washington, too. So Simon and I may be spending some extra quality time together in Boulder.” He made a noise, a little cough. “Listen, it seems like you were with Merritt a long time last night.”

“Yeah. It felt like an eternity.”

“She’s talking about Robilio?”

“Sam.”

“You can’t tell me anything?”

“Sorry. I wish I could.”

“I can’t tell you how much I hate your goddamn profession sometimes. Most of the time, even.”

“I know. Sam, how do I find out what the DA plans to do if I let her out of the hospital?”

“Your wife’s a DA, Alan. Start there.”

“My wife is temporarily out of the loop. I’m serious; I need to know.”

“Have Maitlin feel things out with Mitchell Crest. This one is a PR nightmare for everyone involved in Boulder. Everybody in the department and at the DA’s office is afraid of screwing up. Right now I think the DA is happiest knowing Merritt’s in the hospital. It’s almost as good as having her in custody but they don’t really have to arrest her, which if they’re wrong and she’s innocent leaves them looking impolite. You ready to let her go?”

“Sam, don’t put me on the spot like that. Just read between the lines a little bit, okay?”

“Sorry, habit.”

“I’m going to head over to see Merritt in a little while. You need me for anything?”

“No. We did what we could. My niece’s fate now rests in the hands of a bunch of doctors I’ve never met.”

“It beats having her fate rest in the hands of a bunch of bean counters you’ve never met.”

“Amen.”

Next, I paged John Trent. When he phoned back, I invited him to meet me at Ellyngton’s in the Brown Palace lobby for breakfast. He protested that he couldn’t leave the hospital.

I was impatient with him. I said, “John, this isn’t social. I think you know what this is about.”

He said, “Oh. What time?”

Trent slid into the booth looking like a death row inmate who just received word of a pardon from the governor and then was told that there had been an error.

“Coffee, John? It’s pretty good, much better than the hospital’s.”

“Thanks, yes.” He ran his fingers back over the top of his head in a manner that suggested he had once had a head full of long hair.

I signaled to the waiter.

“Good news today, huh? You heard? It’s like a miracle. I wish I knew what changed their minds.”

“Yes, Sam told me.”

“I wonder why now.” He shook his head a little. “You know, before you called, I had a good feeling about everything for the first time. I think it’s a go today. I really do.”

I allowed him to savor the change in the winds of fortune for Chaney while the waiter delivered coffee and a menu. Without opening the menu, John ordered oatmeal, wheat toast, and a fruit plate.

He sipped his coffee. “So, you know?”

I shrugged.

He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you’re guessing.”

“And if I am?”

“Then I can enjoy my breakfast. You know, I don’t think I’ve actually tasted a bite of food in a month. Maybe this morning I can.”

“And if I’m not guessing?”

“This all gets quite complicated for me.”

It was time for me to switch to decaf. I pushed my saucer away.

I said, “You know Robilio’s daughter?”

He turned his head a little bit to the side the way my dog does when I’ve said something tantalizing but unintelligible.