I needed some Maalox. “Not everyone agrees with you on that, though. Councilman Underwood, for example, and Sam Spender. Greenway’s had to deal with formidable opposition to his subdivision, particularly the last phase near Willow Creek. He must really appreciate having someone like you, in a position of influence, on the council and all, on his side.”

“Are you insinuating something?”

“You tell me. You’re boffing his secretary. That seems like a pretty good inducement to vote in favor of his development. My guess is, keeping you entertained is part of Stefanie’s job description. But just in case you start getting an attack of the guilts, or ever decide to vote against Valley Forest Estates, Greenway has a little something in reserve, these pictures, to make sure you do exactly what he wants you to do.”

“Oh God,” Carpington said, cupping his hands over nose and mouth. “Oh God oh God oh God.”

“When’s the last time you saw Stefanie?” I asked, ignoring his weeping.

“What? Uh, yesterday. At her house.”

“Over on Rambling Rose?”

“Yes. It’s not actually her house, it’s one owned by Greenway’s company, they built a lot of the homes in that area a few years ago, but she lives there.”

“Is that where you’d have your … encounters?”

Carpington nodded.

“There’s a mirror on the ceiling,” I said. “In the bedroom.”

Carpington looked as though he was getting jealous. “So you’ve been with her, too.”

“No, can’t say that I have, but I’m guessing that’s how they got these pictures of the two of you. The camera was mounted behind two-way glass, looking straight down. I guess Greenway or one of his people was up in the attic while you two went at it, fired off the shots he needed, waited until you were gone, and came back down. Left the film with Stefanie to get developed.”

Carpington fiddled vacantly with papers on his desk. “I’m finished. It’s all over for me.”

“Could be. But for the moment, as long as these prints and the negatives don’t land in the wrong hands, you’re still okay. So I’ve got a few more questions. You saw Stefanie yesterday, at her house. What did you talk about? How was she?”

“We didn’t talk about that much. We just, you know. But she did seem, I don’t know, different.”

“How do you mean, different?”

“On edge, distracted. She had something on her mind.”

“Did she say anything?”

“I don’t know. Why does it matter? Why don’t you just ask her yourself?”

“I’m asking you. What did she say?”

“She wanted to know how much it would cost to fly somewhere. The Bahamas, or Barbados, San Francisco. She was throwing out all these names of places. I asked her if she was going on a trip, and she said maybe. She said she might be going away.”