"I hear you," Glitsky said. "I haven't had that since I gave up football. If you don't include a baby. They can wear you out pretty good." He scanned the room, apparently relaxed. "One of my boys, Jacob, is a musician. A singer, actually. Opera, believe it or not." Cuneo had no reaction to all the chatter, but Glitsky went on anyway. "We didn't exactly play a lot of opera around the house when he was growing up, so I don't know how he got the taste for it, but he's pretty good. The downside is, he lives in Italy and I never get to see him."

Glitsky sat himself on the edge of the love seat. He let a silence build, then broke it. "So I'm guessing you're pissed I'm involved in this. I know I would be."

Cuneo sat down at the drum kit, hit the kick drum. "Sure, a little, but what am I gonna do? Nobody asked me. But it's my case."

"Nobody's saying it isn't."

"Well, pardon me, sir, but that's just bullshit."

Glitsky frowned at the profanity, the insubordination, although he'd invited it to some degree by coming to Cuneo's home unannounced. "Actually, it's not. As I thought I explained in my message, the mayor had a personal connection to Hanover. She wanted to be in on it."

"And Lanier couldn't get it from me, then let her know?"

Glitsky shrugged. "She knows me better." "Lucky for you."

"Maybe. Some people might think that's debatable. But the point is, as far as I'm concerned, you're still the investigating officer."

"And you're what? My supervisor?"

"I was thinking, for this case, partner."

Cuneo started a light but quick tattooing on the snare drum. Caught himself and stopped. Started again. "I've had most of my luck working alone," he said.

"So have I." Thinking this was about as far as this topic could take them, Glitsky decided to break the stalemate and move along to the facts of the case. "I talked to Becker and he told me some of your witnesses thought they saw Missy leave the house before the fire."

The drumming stopped.

Glitsky continued. "So I'm assuming first thing this afternoon you were going to put out a net on her. Obvious, right? She was the shooter."

"So?"

"So have you gotten with Strout yet?" He raised a hand, cutting off the reply. "That's not a criticism, in case you haven't. It's a question."

"I was planning on seeing him right after I saw you this afternoon."

"Well, maybe I can save you a trip. I went by the morgue this morning. He ran dental records last night. It was Missy."

The news finally sparked a show of interest. Cuneo's whole body came forward, forearms on his knees, his eyes sharp now, focused. "How sure was he?"

Glitsky's mouth turned up a half inch. "It was Strout." Meaning that if he said it at all, he meant it completely.

Nodding in understanding, Cuneo asked. "So she went back inside?"

"That's one theory."

"She did him, went out to get the gasoline, spent a few minutes pouring it around, then lit it and did herself?" "Except she didn't."

Cuneo cocked his head to one side, then remembered. "That's right. She was shot pretty far around in the back of the head, wasn't she?"

"Right. Physically possible, maybe, but not likely. More likely somebody else did both of them." He spread his palms. "That's where we are."

Cuneo tapped his hands on his thighs. "So who did my witnesses see that they thought was Missy?"

"Maybe it was her. Who were your witnesses?"

"Neighbors."

"So your take is maybe she went someplace and happened to come back in at the wrong time?"

"I don't really have a take. Do you think it was about Hanover?"

"I don't know. The mayor thinks it, though." "She give you any other information?" "Nope."

"So she might be someone to talk to?"

Nodding, Glitsky said, "Maybe. I intend to ask."

"And then you'll tell me what she says?"

"That's the plan. We're working together. And that being the case, I wanted to pass something along. I got a call from Catherine Hanover this morning. The daughter-in-law?"

"Sure. I talked to her twice already. She called you?"

"She did. It seems we've been doubling up on her. I talked to her yesterday, and then evidently you came by to visit her after we'd talked, she and I?"

He answered warily. "Right. She told me you'd called her."

"Well," Glitsky said, "you won't like this, but she said you came on to her."

Cuneo's face hardened down in an instant. "She said what? How did I do that?"

"You touched her."

"I touched her. Where? Did she say?"

"Arm and shoulder."

"Arm and shoulder. As if I'd remember arm and shoulder. And that was coming on to her?" Then, a different tone. "Is she filing a complaint?"

"No."

"She says I came on to her, but she's not filing a complaint? What's that about?"

"That doesn't matter," Glitsky said. "Did you touch her?"

Cuneo paused for a second. "I really don't remember." "It would be better if you did, one way or the other." "Okay then. No, I didn't." "You're sure?"

"Positive. If I did, maybe passing by her, it was so innocent I didn't even notice."

"So if you did that, maybe by mistake, you're saying she must have overreacted?"

"Either that or just flat lied. It's been known to happen."

"And why would she do that?"

"That's what I'm asking myself, especially if she's not filing a complaint." His fingers tapped a steady beat on the snare drum. Ta da dum, ta da dum, ta da dum. "Maybe I was getting close to something she didn't want to talk about."

Glitsky leaned forward. "Do you remember what that might have been?"

Cuneo drummed some more, thinking about it. "Nothing specific."

"What did you go to see her about?"

"She was a witness who might have remembered something. You know how that is."

"Okay."

The fingers stopped. The silence this time thicker. "Okay what?"

Glitsky hesitated. "If you weren't asking her about anything specific, and didn't call on her for a specific reason-something she said the night before that bothered you, something like that-people might wonder why you went to see her in the first place." He held up a hand again. "Just an observation if the topic comes up again."

Cuneo threw him a long, flat stare. "So what did you call her about, then?"

"I called her because I was hoping somebody in the extended family might know who worked on Missy's teeth, and she was the only contact I had. I lucked out." Glitsky kept his voice calm against Cuneo's clear rage.

"Listen, I'm not accusing you of anything. If you say you didn't touch her, you didn't touch her. If you felt you had to talk to her a second time without a specific reason, that's good enough for me. Good cops have good instincts."

The kick drum went thud.

Glitsky continued. "After she gave me the dentist's name, she talked about her family and money. Things are going to be better for them all after Paul's death."

"How much better?"

"A lot."

Glitsky offered his opinion that Catherine's ingenuous and offhand cataloguing of the benefits of Paul's death mitigated considering her a suspect. So Cuneo would probably be well advised to stay away from her. If any further direct interrogation of her were necessary, Glitsky ought to do it. Cuneo didn't buy the argument. But he wasn't going to argue with the deputy chief, whose visit here had to be intimidation pure and simple.

Instead he said, "If it's my case, how about if I work it and keep you informed?"

"We could do that, but it might be awkward for me with the mayor. She asked me to stay involved. I'm asking you how I can do that and still let you do your job."

"I just told you. How about if I work it and let you know what I get?"

Glitsky put his notepad down. "I'll ask you one more time. Either you tell me how you want to do this or I'll tell you how we will do it. Is that about clear enough?"