“Okay,” he said, and started the car.

I figured out where we were and gave him directions until we reached streets he knew. He talked about how someday his GPS devices would be in cars and guide people to their destinations, even if they were in totally unfamiliar places.

It sounded a little far-fetched to me, but that wasn’t what really bothered me about it. “Getting lost isn’t always so bad, is it?” I asked. “I mean, if you only go where you intend to go, and travel only on the recommended roads, you only see what everybody else sees all the time. You miss the out-of-the-way places.”

He smiled and said, “Those who want to be adventurous can simply turn the GPS off.”

“Or disobey it.”

He laughed and said, “You don’t need a dragon slayer, you’ll take care of them on your own.” He glanced over at me, then back at the road. “Hurry and finish that story, Irene Kelly.”

34

I WAS SURPRISED TO LEARN THAT O’CONNOR HADN’T COME BACK IN YET, and wondered what he might be up to. I had plenty to work on, though. I started writing the story of how Max Ducane was reacting to the news that he could not possibly be the lost heir, and telling, for the first time anywhere, why he had accepted Warren Ducane’s offer. O’Connor hadn’t been able to get that story out of Max.

With some reluctance, I called Lillian Linworth. I wanted to reach her before Max came home. She was understandably still upset about yesterday’s discoveries, but said that she was not about to ask Max to stop using her grandson’s name. “Max is a good man, and his support and presence here have been a great comfort. You saw him today, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I interviewed him at lunch.”

“Oh.” She sounded a little disappointed.

“He tells me that you want him to live in your daughter’s house.”

“If he wants to, yes.”

“Any chance I could look through it before the change in ownership?”

There was a long silence, then she said, “If Max goes with you, I don’t see a problem.”

“Do you know about the reward?”

“Reward?”

“He’s offering a twenty-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the murderers of…well, Max Ducane. And Kathleen and Todd.”

“Is he?” she said, clearly surprised. “What a wonderful idea. Please print that I will match that amount.”

I called Lefebvre to get his reaction. “Isn’t that great?” I asked him. “That’s more money than most people make in a year.”

“It may help,” he said.

“You sound tired.”

“Didn’t get much sleep. You know, the first twenty-four years in a homicide investigation are the ones that matter most.”

“Years? I thought it was hours.”

“I have never,” he said sadly, “been good at making jokes.”

“No, I’m just not up to your speed.”

I guess I had made a joke, because that made him laugh.

“So, Phil, will it help?”

“It might. It might also keep us busy chasing false leads. But on a case this old, it will probably be a good thing.”

“Any hope of getting fingerprints from the car?”

“Certainly. You and that construction crew put your paws all over it.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Tough call. I think we’ll have better luck with hair and fibers.”

“Bloodstains?”

“Yes.”

“You are intentionally being irritating.”

“Picked up on that, did you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Irene, I am irritated by this case. But perhaps offering this big reward will bring us an honest eyewitness, and not just a lot of greedy so-and-sos. What do you think my chances are?”

“Get some sleep. I’ll let you know if I find anything at the Ducane mansion.”

“What?”

I hung up.

My phone rang less than ten seconds later.

“That was rude,” he said.

“Are you apologizing?”

“I meant,” he said, laughing, “that you were rude.”

I owned up to it. “I thought we were going to have a spirit of openness here, that’s all.”

“I can’t tell you everything. You know that.”

“Likewise. But I will tell you that it’s apparently sort of a Miss Haversham scene over at the former Ducane household.”

“What a relief.”

“That Lillian preserved it the way it was on the fatal night?”

“No, that Great Expectations is still being taught in school.”

“I didn’t like it much, to be honest.”

“No surprise. So, is there a cobwebbed wedding cake up in a dark and dusty chamber here in Las Piernas?”

“I’ll let you know when I get back. If Max will let me tour it with him.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind a third person to make it a crowd?”

“Because you’ve been doing me so many favors lately?”

“Are you waiting for me to say ‘please’?”

“No, I wouldn’t want you to die from the strain. Besides, you’ll get a search warrant and probably tape it off and prevent me from seeing it at all. This way, you don’t have to bother a judge or waste your yellow tape, and I get a homicide detective’s comments. So I’ll call you when I hear from Max. And you’ll call me-?”

“If I can. I promise.”

“Lefebvre?”

“Yes?”

“Were they in the car when they were killed?”

There was a long silence, then he said, “Perhaps.”

“Let me put it this way. Did anyone other than the Ducanes die in that car?”

“I couldn’t say.”

I sighed. “Do you think the Ducanes were made to ride in the front seat or the backseat?”

“If I tell you, will you feel the urge to write about it for tomorrow’s paper?”

“I can hold on to it, if you’re willing to let me know the minute you’re about to make it public.”

“All right. We have seen signs that they were in the backseat.”

“Thanks, Phil. I won’t break my promise.”

“If I thought you would, I wouldn’t have told you a thing.”

I wrote quickly. I decided I’d get it all down for now and make it pretty later. I kept my promise to Lefebvre.

When O’Connor showed up, he had changed shoes. “What happened to the ones you were wearing earlier?” I asked.

He looked down, as if surprised to see what he was wearing on his feet. “I got something on them at lunch.”

“That’s too bad.” I also realized that his hair was a little damp, and he smelled like soap. He had taken a shower after lunch? The obvious meaning of this struck me-O’Connor had a girlfriend and had grabbed a quickie while I was at the Cliffside. And he had the nerve to tease me about Max? I tried not to smirk.

“No big deal,” he was saying. “What’s going on?”

I figured if I told him about Eric Yeager threatening us, I’d start to hear something about why this was no job for a woman. So I told him about my lunch with Max-leaving out the dragon-slaying-and about my plans to tour the Ducane mansion.

“I can’t believe Lillian moved that kid under her roof,” he said.

“He’s not so bad.”

He narrowed his gaze at me. “You’re smitten, I suppose?”

“For God’s sake, all I did was have lunch with him-unlike what some people might be doing on their lunch hours. And I paid for my own lunch. So there.”

“You gave him your number at Lillian’s that night, but he didn’t call you until the story broke, did he?”

If there had been another bowl of strawberries at hand, he would have needed another shower. My fists clenched, but I kept my mouth shut. I turned and went back to my desk, back to writing the story about Max.

A minute later, O’Connor leaned over my typewriter. “Wrigley said no to adding your friend to the news staff,” he said.

It smarted, coming as it did on the heels of his previous insult, but I tried to keep that reaction out of my voice as I said, “His loss.”

“I told him it would make it easier for you if there was another woman working news side.”

“Well, no wonder he said no-that would be a lame-ass reason for him to bring her over here. Besides, it isn’t true. I’m fine. But thanks for fucking things up for Lydia.”