On his way out of Rose Marie's office, he stopped at the secretary's desk and dialed the number of an investigator at the ME's office. "Yeah, we got her in," the guy said. "I can't tell you much, except that there's no sign of violence and she was older and was taking some heart drugs."

"Could you do everything?" Lucas asked. "There's a chance that somebody took her off. I've been told that she died while she was drinking coffee, so check for poison, or weird drugs, anything like that."

"You say everything, we'll do everything," the investigator said. "I'll tell the doc, and get him to push it a little."

"Thanks. Let me know."

"Sure. Hey, you know she's got a son, right? He's here now, somewhere, I think. I haven't seen him leave. Probably doing papers."

"Hold him, will you?" Lucas said. "I'm gonna run over."

He was going out the door when he saw Anderson and Marshall talking in a doorway. He went that way instead, and when Marshall looked up, said, "You hear?"

Marshall pushed away from the door. He was wearing a hip-length rough-leather coat lined with fleece, and with his rough face and hands, looked like a Marlboro ad. "I guess not," he said. "It must not be good, from the way you sound."

"Helen Qatar's dead. She was found dead this morning by her secretary. She's over at the ME's office, and her son's there. I was just heading over."

"I'm coming with you," Marshall said. He turned to Anderson and said, "Catch you later, Harmon."

On the way through the secret tunnel, Lucas said, "You and Anderson seem to be getting along."

"Yeah. Can't tell you why. He's just a good old boy, though he looks like an old geek or something."

Lucas nodded. "Smart guy. A pretty damn good street cop, when he was on the street."

"That's what I see," Marshall said. "I'm a pretty good street cop myself, and I'll tell you what-if I make it to heaven, I wouldn't mind spendin' part of eternity sitting in a tile room with a bunch of street cops, drinkin' coffee and tellin' stories."

"Well, goddamnit, Terry, you oughta be a poet." Marshall shut his mouth and seemed embarrassed by Lucas's reaction. Lucas picked it up and said, "I know exactly what you mean, though. That would not be a bad way to spend some time. Let me tell you what happened when Del ran into this chick with these pinking shears…"

They were laughing when they got to the ME's, and stopped just a minute to sober up before they pushed through the door at the end of the tunnel. Lucas stuck his head into the investigator's office and asked, "Where's the son?"

"He's down talking to the doc… right there, second door."

QATAR WAS A small man-not short, but willowy, and bald, with a narrow face. His baldness seemed to push his features too far down on his oval head, so that his deep-set eyes, delicate nose, full lips, and rounded chin were all pressed into the lower half of the oval. His face was pink as a lamb chop; he'd apparently been weeping. The doc was behind his desk, and a remote, smooth-faced blonde was perched on a swivel stool next to a drawing table; she was wearing a white blouse and a skirt the precise pale green color of her eyes. She had long legs, and most of their length was visible.

After Lucas knocked, the doc invited them in and said, "Mr. Qatar is having a hard time with this."

"I'm sorry," Lucas said. "I only met your mother a few days ago, but I liked her. She seemed like a really nice woman."

"She was," Marshall said. "I liked her a lot too."

"Jeeminy Christmas," Qatar said. "I knew, I knew, I knew…"

"Mr. Qatar," the doc started.

Qatar got it out on the fourth try: "I knew this could happen anytime. She had the heart problem, but she seemed, no problem, yesterday, no problem. She looked perfectly good. I saw her at three o'clock and I had to rush off I don't even think I said goodbye I just said, 'Look, I gotta go,' and I took off and just left her standing there and I never thought…"

He started sniffling again, and Lucas and Marshall both looked quickly at the woman, who didn't appear to work there, but neither was she comforting Qatar. When tears appeared in his eyes, Marshall slapped an arm around his shoulder and said, "I dealt with a lot of these things in my life, son, and the best thing for you to do is go home, find someplace comfortable, and put your feet up. Let it all out when you have to."

Lucas jumped in. "Did she tell you anything about talking to the police over the last few days? Of looking around for somebody who might have been at a museum event a year ago last fall? Anything…"

Qatar was shaking his head. "No. No, nothing like that. Everything we talked about, it was just so… inconsequential. I still have so many things to say to her… God, I've got to do something about a funeral, I've got to call somebody…" He flapped his arms around, looked all around himself as if disoriented, and said, "I've got to get going, I've got…"

The blonde hopped off the stool. "I can help for a while," she said. "This gentleman is right," she said to Qatar, tipping her head at Marshall. "Why don't I take you back to your place, and, you know, I'll hang around."

"You're a friend?" Lucas asked.

The woman patted Qatar on the shoulder and said, "Yes. James and I have been seeing each other…" She looked at Lucas a little too long, a full extra beat, and down in his heart Lucas thought, Hmm.

"Take care of him," Marshall said, and the doc added, "We'll get back to you about your mother sometime this afternoon, so you can make arrangements."

Qatar had started leaking again, and the blonde led him out of the room with a quick backward glance at Lucas. The door shut behind them, and they gave them time to get a decent distance away, then the doc shook his head and said, "Guy was losing his shit. I was glad to see you guys."

"Was it real, or was it bullshit?" Lucas asked.

Both Marshall and the doc looked at him. "That was real, as far as I could tell," the doc said. "He was freaking out. You think it might be something else?"

He thought about the bald man. "Nah, not really. He seemed a little overcooked," Lucas said. "On the other hand-do the chemistry."

"Wanna watch?"

"No, thanks. A nice clean piece of paper would be fine," Lucas said.

On the way back to City Hall, Lucas said, "This is it-we pull everybody off everything else, and we take St. Pat's apart. The guy is over there somewhere."

"Unless she had a heart attack."

"Maybe she did, but you know what? The photograph down by the statue, Ware remembers talking to somebody who might have been a priest, you dug up that thing about the lawn party, Neumann getting killed, now Qatar gone: This shit is telling us something."

"Hope it's not a priest," Marshall said.

"So do I." He stopped and looked back at the ME's door.

"What?"

"I don't know. I should have figured something out from this, but I didn't," Lucas said.

"There's so much stuff."

"That's not what I mean," Lucas said. "I mean, I know something, but I missed it. You ever have that feeling?"

"Yeah. Street-cop stuff. It'll come to you."

"RANDY'S AWAKE," DEL said. He caught them walking back toward Lucas's office. "He's hurtin', but he's up."

"You going?" Marshall asked.

"Yeah." Del nodded. "I got any company?"

Marshall nodded and said, "Me," and Lucas said, "I want to come, but let me talk to Marcy first."

Marcy, Black, and Swanson were drinking coffee and looking at paper when he walked in with Del and Marshall trailing. "All right, people, we're ripping everything up and turning it around. We're gonna look at nothing but St. Pat's. The guy is over there somewhere." He told them about Helen Qatar.

Swanson said, "Whoa," and Black said, "Wasn't her heart-I got a hundred bucks says it wasn't. Goddamnit, she was a nice old bat."