The lieutenant shrugged and smiled. “I gave Soto my card last week when I went by to look at your place. I told him to call me if he saw anything I might find interesting.” He looked Keegan in the eye and smiled. “The guy’s been calling in twice a day to tell me you haven’t been home. He seems to have an unnatural interest in the goings-on at Casa Keegan. I was starting to regret giving him my direct number.”

The lieutenant rocked back on his heels a little. He seemed to be having a good time spinning his story, drawing the moment out, making Keegan sweat. It was like a high-stakes poker hand—all bluff and braggadocio until somebody got a case of nerves and moved too fast. It wouldn’t be Keegan. He bit the inside of his lip and waited.

“But then the guy phoned me this morning,” Moore finally said. “First thing. I hadn’t even hung my hat.” Another pause; another aggravating smile. “He said you had a woman in your apartment last night, Jimmy.” The lieutenant searched Keegan’s face. “Said he heard you two talking, but he couldn’t make out any words. Said she sounded angry, then she started crying, then everything went silent. Said it’s the first time he’s ever heard you with company over there—except for an illegal dog.” Moore glanced past Keegan, as if he was looking for Nora. “He said your visitor left around five this morning. She slipped out real quiet. He could hear you still snoring.”

Keegan said nothing.

The lieutenant waited. A plane droned somewhere far overhead. “Come on, Jimmy,” Moore said. “At least play along.”

Keegan worked his jaw from side to side, but he didn’t speak.

“Say you went down to your place to get some clothes,” Moore said. “Tell me you drank a little. Turned on the TV a little too loud.” The smile faded from his face. “Tell me it was some late show melodrama—one of those weepies with Joan Crawford and all that crying. Tell me your neighbor’s mistaken. It’s all a big misunderstanding. Your Mr. Soto got it all wrong.”

Keegan closed his eyes and took a few breaths. He felt bone-tired and emptied, and he knew there was no hope of sleep or solace any time soon. “Sure. Okay,” Keegan said. His tone was flat, resigned. “Let’s go with that. It was the TV.”