I smiled. “I wanted to see how he’d take it.”

“And what did you learn?”

I stepped closer. “He didn’t flinch, or blink, or panic. Most innocent people would do one of the three, perhaps all of the three, when accused of killing a man. So I’m wondering how a man like that came to work for a company like this, and what you know about him.”

Spada reached over and pushed the button for the elevator. He pushed it more than once, more than twice, as if that would get the car there faster. “Not going to discuss him or Timothy Ayers with you. Never mind the privacy issues, you’re not the police, and you have no authority to question me. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

The elevator arrived. Spada eyed it like a hungry dog might eye a pork chop sitting too close to the edge on the supper table. When he rushed onto the elevator, I followed right behind him. I punched the button for the lobby and we moved to opposite corners while the doors whooshed closed and the car began to descend. Spada didn’t look happy. He was trapped with the last person on earth he wanted to be trapped with. “Vincent told me you were persistent.”

“Did he also tell you that he threatened to break me in two?”

His lips twisted into a crafty smile. “And yet here you are. I’m not sure what that says about you.”

Spada watched the floors tick by. It was a slow elevator, despite the size of the building. We were just on floor twenty-one. If the elevator had had a window, the look on Spada’s face told me he’d have thought about jumping out of it.

“Do you know where Darby was the night Tim died?”

“How would I? He’s an employee. I don’t know the intimate details of his comings and goings.”

“Do you remember where you were?”

He pulled back, stared at me. “You’re accusing me of murder? Do you have any idea who I am? How many boards I sit on? How much I’m worth?”

We were silent for a time.

“I have a theory,” I said. “At this point, that’s all it is. I think something went wrong with whatever business you and Darby set Tim up with, and that it quickly went from bad to worse.”

Spada reached over and punched the lobby button unnecessarily. “I’m not having this conversation. Tim Ayers’s death was an accident. In fact, it was a personal blow to me, as I am a good friend of the Ayers family. Of course, I sent my sincerest condolences for their loss. Such a tragic situation, such a nice young man, but his passing had nothing to do with either of us.” He slid me a look. “I’d hate to get attorneys involved.”