“So I’m thinking Mancusi was likely dead when he got cut up, Loo. Bright could’ve used the scarf to choke him out, got himself a passive corpse to dissect.”

“For Shonsky, he used the scarf as a prop. Stabbed her to death. For all his victims we know of, the weapon was a knife. But he mixes it up identity-wise, so maybe he likes variety in his methods, too.”

I said, “A stealth strangulation for Mancusi makes sense. Tony was a heavy man, making him harder to subdue. And wary, because he knew or suspected what Bright was capable of.”

Biro said, “Sneak up behind, get the scarf around the neck, avoid a violent struggle. Keeping it quiet at three, four a.m.”

He fooled with his tie again. “First Mama, now the son. He’s got something against this family?”

“If only it was that simple, Raul.”

“The psycho do-gooder thing, huh? In his mind, he’s helping out, then he snaps?”

I said, “The do-gooder thing is a power play. He was a cruel kid, killed his own sister for big-time financial gain, developed a taste for playing God.”

“Making the rules,” said Biro. “He picks the who and the when and the how. But Mancusi got done because Bright was worried he’d talk.”

Milo said, “That’s how we see it.”

“Serving it up on that plate. That’s a whole different universe of bad.”

Milo lit another cigarillo. Inhaled for a long time and blew smoke at the sky. “If he followed me when I was trailing Tony, saw me put Tasha in the car, that coulda been Tony’s death warrant. Because Bright knew Tasha was at the party when Tony griped about his mother, figured too close for comfort.”

I said, “If Bright was watching Tony, he’d already been thinking about snipping loose ends.”

He grunted.

Biro said, “How we dividing the chores?”

“Mancusi’s yours, the rest is my headache.”

“You have any problems with this expanding?”

“To what?”

Another tug at the tie. “This many bodies over all these years, a suspect that psycho. Someone suggests a task force, I really don’t see how we can stop it.”

Milo said, “We take it wherever it goes, Raul.”

Biro said, “Meanwhile, we work with what we’ve got. Starting with finding the he-she. You want me to get Vice over to Gordito’s tonight?”

“Let me cover that, you concentrate on this.”

Biro flipped through his pad. “So we know whodunit and maybe at least part of whydunit and howdunit. Now all we have to do is find this altruist.”

A slow smile brightened his unlined face. “Rich old lady. Maybe I should start visiting some of those women’s clubs — bridge, bingo, high tea, whatever.”

“Bygone generation, Raul.”

“Actually, Loo, they still do the tea bit out in Pasadena and San Marino.”

“You grew up there?”