Lots of nude male statuary, too. A lamp whose black granite base was a limbless, muscular torso—Venus de Milo in drag. A framed cover from The Advocate commemorating the Christopher Street riot side by side with a Paul Cadmus drawing of a reclining Adonis. A framed Arrow Man shirt ad from an old issue of Collier's kept company with a black-and-white gelatin print of a Paul Newman lookalike in nothing but a G-string. I felt less comfortable than I would have expected. Or maybe it was just the suddenness of the move.

Milo brought us back to the door and demonstrated the closed-circuit surveillance system. Two cameras—one in front, the other panning the rear of the house, two black-and-white monitors mounted over the door. One of them captured the three behemoths, shlepping and swearing.

Milo opened the door and shouted, “Careful!” Closing it, he said, “What do you think?”

“Great,” I said. “Plenty of space—thanks a lot.”

“Beautiful view,” said Robin. “Really gorgeous.”

We followed him into the kitchen and he opened the door of a Sub-Zero cooler. Empty except for a bottle of cooking sherry. “I'll get you some provisions.”

Robin said, “Don't worry, I can take care of that.”

“Whatever. . . . Let's get you a bedroom—you've got your choice of three.”

He took us down a wide, windowless hallway lined with prints. A wall clock in a mother-of-pearl case read two thirty-five. In less than an hour, I was expected in Sunland.

Robin read my mind: “Your afternoon appointment?”

“What time?” said Milo.

“Three-thirty,” I said.

“Where?”

“Wallace's mother-in-law. I'm supposed to see the girls out there. No reason not to go, is there?”

He thought for a moment. “None that I can see.”

Robin caught the hesitation. “Why should there be a reason?”

“This particular case,” I said, “is potentially ugly. Two little girls, their father killed their mother and now wants visitation—”

“That's absurd.”

“Among other things. The court asked me to evaluate and make a recommendation. In the very beginning Milo and I talked about the father possibly being behind the tape. Trying to intimidate me. He's got a criminal record and hangs with an outlaw motorcycle gang that's been known to use strongarm tactics.”

“This creep's walking free?”

“No, he's locked up in prison. Maximum security at Folsom, I just got a letter from him, telling me he's a good father.”

“Wonderful,” she said.

“He's not behind this. It was just a working guess, until I learned about the “bad love' symposium. My problems have something to do with de Bosch.”

She looked at Milo. He nodded.

“All right,” she said, taking hold of my jacket lapel and kissing my chin. “I'm going to stop being Mama Bear and go about my business.”

I held her around the waist. Milo looked away.

“I'll be careful,” I said.

She put her head on my chest.

The dog began pawing the floor.

“Oedipus Rover,” said Milo.