“Or Antoine’s death wasn’t a calculated crime. Couple of kids horsing around and something went horribly wrong. Good panicked and hid Antoine’s body. Now he’s terrified.”

“Maybe three kids. Antoine’s other pal is a junkie and a career criminal. That could be self-punishment.”

“Gordon Beverly said Maisonette had family problems, lived through a drive-by. Maybe his resources weren’t as strong as Good’s.”

“Bradley sentences himself to a lousy life, Wilson gets the house in the hills. Maybe that makes Good the really cold one… hell, it could’ve been premeditated. The Goods told us Antoine sold more subscriptions than anyone. What if those little bastards wanted to pocket his dough and he wouldn’t give it up?”

“The way those outfits generally operate, the kids hand in the forms and get paid later.”

“Okay, but my nose is telling me something happened among those three boys. Gotta find Mr. Good and start demolishing his illusions, but I can’t lose track of Mancusi and Shonsky. Speaking of which, Tony called Jean Barone yesterday, wanting to know when Mama’s will was going to be processed.”

“What’d she tell him?”

“What I told her to say: The wheels of justice grind slowly. The Tonester hung up without as much as good-bye. Maybe cranking up the pressure will lead him to do something stupid. Like meeting with whoever Dale Bright’s pretending to be.”

Snatching a cruller, he bit down hard, created a spray of crumbs. “Thanks for taking the trip, Alex. You believe Korvutz about not setting up the Safrans?”

“He had no incentive, the building was going to be vacated with or without the Safrans’ consent.”

“So what was Bright’s motive?”

“Killing’s fun when you can frame it as altruism. Sonia Glusevitch said Bright was the most helpful man she’d ever met.”

“The gal-pal,” he said. “Credible?”

“I think so.”

“Able but not often willing,” he said. “But not gay.”

“This guy defies classification.”

He finished the cruller, took another. “Frolicks in frocks, good with makeup. No record of him living in Washington, D.C., Maryland, or Virginia. Same deal with military service in Germany.”

“What a shock,” I said.

“Reinvent yourself. Pastime of the new millennium. Why didn’t he just run for office and save us all this grief.”

“Politics would be a poor fit,” I said. “He genuinely likes helping people.”

He laughed so hard crumbs bounced off his belly.

I said, “Dale and Tony could’ve met at some cross-dresser get-together. Tony complains about money problems, how his mother lives in a nice Westwood house while he’s forced to move to a dump because she’s turned off the tap. Dale decides to put in a fix. Maybe Tony has no idea what he’s initiated but maybe after he hears the details — a killer in costume — he suspects something.”