Dulcie crouched, tail twitching, eyeing the open door. The next instant, she was gone, had fled through, not waiting for Joe. Without asking for his opinion, without asking if he was coming, she was gone into Adelina Prior's lair. Within the room a blue light came on, and Joe could hear the click of computer keys. He waited to see if Dulcie got pitched out again.

When nothing happened he stifled his urge to beat it out of there and, slinking, followed Dulcie.

Just inside the door and to his right stood a little seating group, a purple leather love seat and matching chair, and a dark, polished corner table. He slid beneath the love seat, flattening himself down into the white carpet. The piece was so low he had to belly along like a snake. Oozing along in the dark space, he realized he was alone, that Dulcie wasn't there, the space was unoccupied except for a spider huddled inches from his ear, clinging to the squat mahogany leg. This schlepping around under furniture was getting old. He felt as if he'd spent his whole life underneath couches and beds and desks, like some weird mole-cat, living entirely in a four-inch-high world beneath heavy furniture. Why was he doing this? He was a cat, not an earthworm; he was a freewheeling tomcat born to the wind and high places.

From this vantage, all he could see of Adelina were her well-turned ankles and spike heels, the desk legs, and the five-castered pedestal of her wheeled desk chair.

Slipping out to the edge of the love seat for a wider view, he studied the sleek black desk and the computer behind which Adelina sat, her smooth profile bathed in green light, her black hair a shining wing pulled back into an elegant roll, her diamond earrings catching green sparks with the movement of her typing. He did not see Dulcie. She wasn't under the desk, nor under the upholstered chair. Searching for her, he crept farther out, careful to stay out of Adelina's line of sight. Surveying the room, he was not impressed by the decor of purple and black against the lavender walls. And who would want paintings of flat, purple, naked humans that looked like they were drawn with a ruler? The work had no passion, was like purple cutouts, or as if the artist had filled in the outlines for a street sign.

Adelina stopped typing, removed a tissue from her top desk drawer, and delicately, blew her nose. She smoothed her hair, touching the intricate dark coil, then resumed her work. He could not see the computer screen, it angled toward the window at her back. The window was open a few inches above a long window seat covered with decorative pillows. There was no screen on the window. Dulcie could, if she'd lost her nerve, simply have slipped on out. Escape out the window, through the scrolled iron bars and away, leaving him in the lurch.

If she'd ditched him, if she'd cut out of here, she'd never hear the end of it. He judged his distance, ready to leap across and follow her. One jump into the cushions, and he'd be through before Adelina could grab him. The pillows were done in such a maze of wild patterns and colors they dizzied him, a tangle of intricate tapestry, a panoply of color and texture that must have cost a bundle. He suddenly saw, tucked between the lavish weavings, a pair of green eyes watching him.

Swallowing back a laugh, he crept out and winked at her. Among the pillows, she looked exactly like a puff of dark, striped embroidery.

She cut her eyes at him, then blinked them closed, was at once invisible: a little commando hidden in jungle camouflage.

She had positioned herself directly behind Adelina, where she could see clearly the computer screen. When she opened her eyes again, she glanced at him, then watched the screen intently. She seemed impatient at what she was seeing. He could see, between the pillows, the end of her tail irritably twitching.

He wondered if Adelina was working on the files they had sought, on the information they'd searched for all night.

If she was, whatever it showed, Dulcie didn't look pleased.

Soon Adelina turned on the printer, and the state-of-the-art machine spit out five pages as fast as bullets. When the printing ended she punched a few keys, turned off the machine, then unlocked a desk drawer.

As she removed several files, Dulcie emerged from among the cushions and reared up behind Adelina, peering over her shoulder like some sudden, ghostly visitation. They watched Adelina remove an untidy sheaf of papers from the top folder, and a sheet of stationery. With a thin gold pen, she began to write. Behind her Dulcie stood taller, so fascinated, stretching up to see, that she rocked precariously on her hind paws, her front paws drooping over her pale belly, her tail switching for balance. Joe guessed they were both thinking the same thought: Why would Adelina turn off the computer and write a letter by hand?

Exchanging another glance, they watched her finish one letter, address the envelope, seal it, and drop it in her purse. When she opened a second file, she removed a large pad of lined paper, the kind a school child might use, and started a second letter, writing with a lead pencil. Adelina had written two pages when the soft scuff of shoes in the hall sent Dulcie diving into the pillows again and Joe slinking deep beneath the love seat.

The feet, in scarred, flat shoes, that scuffed across the carpet belonged to Renet. He caught her scent, and, as she went around the desk, he could see her, pale hair hanging ragged around her ears, no makeup-that plain face could use some help-her cotton skirt and cotton blouse wrinkled and baggy. She dropped a large brown envelope onto the desk. "Done. Good job if I do say so. Worked it out last weekend. Did the prints this morning, to make sure."

She sat down on the love seat, her light weight nearly squashing Joe. Maybe the love seat needed new springs. If she'd been heavy, he'd be flat as a twenty-cent hamburger. Belly down, he slid away to the other end, then out between the love seat and the wall.

From this vantage he watched Adelina remove a sheaf of photographs from the envelope and lay them out on the desk. She studied them solemnly.

"Yes. Very good. How long does this one take?"

"An hour to be safe. I hope that Mae Rose woman doesn't come snooping."

Adelina raised her dark, expressionless eyes. "Forget Mae Rose. You're fixated with the woman just because she knew Wenona." She gave Renet a long, chill look. "Wenona's dead, Renet. Please forget everything connected with her."

"But Mae Rose-"

"And as for Mae Rose going on about Jane Hubble, that's all talk. What possible connection could she make?"

"I don't like her. I think Mae Rose should-"

"Mae Rose has three daughters. Get your mind off her."

"They never visit her, they live clear across the country. I could easily-"

"She's not a suitable subject. For one thing, she's too small, you know that. Pay attention to the business at hand. If you do just one sloppy presentation, Renet, it's over. You'll have no need to worry about Mae Rose."

Adelina slipped the files back into the drawer, locked it, and put the photographs back in the envelope. "I don't know why these people have to visit the same day as that Pet-a-Pet business. And I don't know whether allowing those animal enthusiasts in here is worth the trouble, for the little PR it affords."

"Well it certainly wasn't my idea."

Adelina sighed. "Have you done all the errands?"

"Of course. What time?"

"Two-thirty. Don't leave half the box in the closet."

"I never do. What about that new nurse, that big slow woman? I don't-"

"I'll see that she's kept busy. Have you made any progress on her? I don't like keeping her when she-"

"So far, nothing. You should have looked deeper before you hired her."

"I didn't have any choice. It isn't easy to get help. Just get on with your job. Everyone has some skeleton in the closet, and you're to keep on until you find it. You've had two weeks, and you don't have a thing. If you'd pay more attention to business-"