‘Really? Keep going.’

‘The night Goff disappeared, Lainie and Ogden had a late meeting in his office. I think Henry promised her an early partnership. That night he told her she wasn’t getting it. According to the building’s security guard, Lainie left looking majorly pissed. I’m wondering if she threw a hissy fit when Ogden turned her down. Maybe threatened to tell the wife about the affair. Or the other partners. Or maybe really go public and accuse the firm of sexual harassment. What do you think?’

‘Would he kill her over that?’ asked Maggie. She sounded doubtful.

‘Given Ogden’s domestic situation, it’s possible,’ said Lund. ‘How much do you two know about the lovely and talented Mrs Ogden?’

‘Nothing,’ said McCabe.

‘Among her friends, Barbara Milliken Ogden is known as Attila the Hen.’

‘Cute,’ said Maggie. ‘What do her enemies call her?’

‘Beats me, but nothing good. She’s not only unattractive, she’s nasty and vindictive. Handsome Henry married her for her money.’

‘Her maiden name is Milliken?’

‘Yes. My guess is Barbara tolerates Henry’s little sexcapades as long as they remain discreet, but if any of Henry’s playmates ever humiliated her in public, she’d cut his preppy little balls off.’

‘What are we talking about here?’ asked Maggie. ‘An expensive divorce? Big alimony payments?’

‘Alimony’s not an issue. Henry makes a good living, huge compared to the likes of us, but the really serious money in the family is all Barbara’s. Some comes from the Milliken side, but a lot more comes from her mother’s family. Ever hear of the Dexters?’

‘As in Dexter Oil?’ asked McCabe. Dexter’s red diamond-shaped logo stared McCabe in the face practically every morning, painted, as it was, on the sides of all those big storage tanks on the South Portland side of the harbor.

‘Yeah, as in. We’re talking big bucks here. Probably hundreds of millions. If Babs ever kicks Henry out of the honeymoon cottage, he won’t see another dime of it. Ever. He might even lose his job. Dexter Oil was Palmer Milliken’s first big corporate client. Established the firm as a major player back in the fifties. And it’s still number one by a wide margin.’

‘You think Barbara could get him dumped?’ asked McCabe.

‘I know she could. Dexter’s still privately held, and Barbara’s the majority shareholder. If she told Henry’s partners they’d lose Dexter as a client if they didn’t make Henry walk the plank, he’s done. Finished. Toast. He’d be lucky to get a job as dog catcher in this town, let alone as an attorney.’

‘Pretty dumb to put all that at risk just to get into Lainie’s pants,’ said Maggie.

‘Also pretty common. If you recall, we had a president not so long ago who couldn’t keep his fly zipped either. Not to mention a gaggle of governors and senators. I’m just wondering what’s in Lainie’s office that’s making Henry so determined to keep you out.’

‘Who knows?’ said Maggie. ‘Phone records. Pictures. E-mails. If proof of the affair exists, Ogden’ll want to find it before we do.’

‘That would suggest Henry’s not the killer,’ said McCabe. ‘If he was, he would have started looking two weeks ago. Right after he nabbed her.’

‘On the other hand, if he only heard about the murder last night,’ said Maggie, ‘he’d want to keep us out until he had a chance to look.’

Maggie was right. Which meant it was probably Ogden who tossed Goff’s apartment last night. Right after he found out she was dead. Maybe he checked out the office, too. Or maybe he didn’t have a master key and couldn’t get in until Monday morning. There are ways Palmer Milliken could segregate sensitive client material. All kinds of sensitive material, McCabe decided.

‘Okay,’ Lund said, ‘let’s see if we can discover what it is Henry might be looking for. Write up the affidavit, and we’ll find a judge to issue the order. Of course, if Ogden tries to quash, we could be wrangling about it for a few days anyway.’

They hung up.

‘Get your coat and let’s get some lunch,’ McCabe said to Maggie. ‘We’ll talk while we eat.’

Tallulah’s, halfway up Munjoy Hill, was jammed with the late weekend brunch crowd. As usual Tallulah was guarding the door. She greeted McCabe with her customary hug, squeezing her ample bosom into his chest. ‘How you doing, Mike? Heard there was a murder in town last night. Some lawyer lady.’

‘I’m good, Lou – and yeah, you heard right. In fact, we need a quiet table in the corner where we can talk business.’ He looked around the crowded room. ‘That is, if you can find one.’

She scanned her clipboard and made a few notations. ‘No problem, Sergeant. I’ve got your reservation right here.’ She looked up with a smile. ‘You’re right on time.’

Tallulah led them past a noisy gaggle of thirty-somethings, hanging at the bar, drinking beer and Bloody Marys and waiting for tables. Like they say in the American Express ads, membership has its privileges. She seated them in back, about as far from the action as possible. ‘Can I start you two off with a couple of Bloodys?’

McCabe pondered the question and was about to nod yes, but Maggie beat him to the punch. ‘Not today, Lou. We’re working.’

‘Yeah.’ McCabe sighed. ‘Mag’s right. Just make it a Virgin. And a burger and a chopped salad for me.’

Maggie handed back her menu. ‘Make it two. Medium rare. And an order of onion rings.’

‘I’ll go tell Mandy.’ Tallulah passed on their order to the pretty blonde who was serving drinks two tables away. Mandy was a part-time waitress and a full-time artist and friend of Kyra’s. Like most artists, she couldn’t make a living selling her work, so she waited tables.

‘How come you never get fat?’ asked McCabe. ‘You eat like a twelve-year-old. You don’t exercise. And you still look great.’

Maggie smiled brightly. ‘Just a metabolic powerhouse, I guess.’ She waited till Tallulah was out of earshot before continuing. ‘You know, I didn’t say anything to Burt, but I have some other problems with Ogden as the freak.’

‘Other than his not checking out her office in the two weeks since she was nabbed?’

She nodded. ‘Yeah, other than that. Ogden just doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d leave obscure quotes from the Bible in his victim’s mouth. The Book of Amos? I mean, they don’t teach that kind of stuff at Harvard Law, do they? Plus hauling her body back and forth to Harts Island? Why would he do that? If Ogden was going to kill someone, he’d keep it simple. You know the headline by heart. “Woman assaulted and slain in deserted garage. Assailant flees.” Or maybe assailant doesn’t flee. Maybe he dumps her body in Casco Bay or maybe in the middle of nowhere. Maine’s a big state. Over thirty-five thousand square miles, most of it wilderness. Could’ve been months, years, maybe never before anyone found her.’

McCabe nodded. ‘I agree. I don’t think Ogden’s our guy either. I didn’t tell you, but I paid a visit to Goff’s apartment after we got back from Harts last night.’

Maggie looked at him quizzically. ‘Really? Why? I appreciate your devotion to duty, but couldn’t your visit have waited till morning?’

‘I wanted to see how Goff lived. Anyway, somebody tossed the place between the time you and Jacobi left, which was what?’

‘A little before eleven.’

‘Okay. I got there at roughly 3:30 A.M. In other words, after Goff’s murder was announced. I’m willing to bet the searcher was Ogden.’

Mandy brought their drinks. ‘Burgers’ll be here in a sec,’ she said. When she was gone, McCabe asked Maggie for a rundown of what transpired at the 10:00 A.M. detectives’ meeting. ‘Anybody make any progress?’

‘Not much. The canvass went oh-for-four. Nobody saw anything. Nobody heard anything. Nobody knew anything. The only person who showed any interest was Goff’s landlord.’

‘Andrew Barker?’

‘Yeah, and he showed too much. Kept asking questions about the murder like he was getting off on it. Creepy little guy. Wondered if he might not be our pither.’