When he stepped out of his room to go down to the hotel’s coffee shop for breakfast, the police were wheeling a body in a bag out of a room closer to the elevators than his. Manfred thought, Oh, shit. What did Olivia do?

He stayed in his doorway until the gurneys had rolled into the staff elevator. When he ventured out and down the hall to the guest elevators, a policeman holding a clipboard asked him his name. When Manfred responded, the cop checked it off on a list. “One of the officers will talk to you later,” the cop said. “You’ll need to stay in the hotel until you’ve been interviewed.”

“I’ll be here.” Manfred tried hard to sound appropriately somber and innocent. “I am assuming one of the guests died?”

“Two. But the officer will tell you what you need to know.”

Manfred stepped into the elevator, his thoughts racing around like a mouse in a maze. He realized he’d never considered that Olivia might not be involved at all, and he’d also never considered that the body bag might contain anyone besides the man or the woman she’d dined with the night before.

When he emerged from the elevator, the calm, techno lobby of Vespers had been overturned. Now the mirrors reflected quite a few people, mostly of the police persuasion. Manfred sighed heavily. He doubted the lobby of Vespers had ever seen so many police, uniformed or plainclothes. The staff did not look so smoothly chic today. They looked both anxious and excited.

Inside the sunny morning restaurant (Mattina), seated at a table for two, was Olivia. She looked much more like the woman he knew, in lighter makeup and a gauze blouse and khakis. He looked away elaborately (This is not the woman I seek), but as the hostess bustled up to seat him, Olivia jerked her head in a summons.

“I see a friend,” he told the hostess, and slid into the chair opposite Olivia’s. Her plate of fruit and bowl of yogurt had been sampled. As he sat, she signaled for her coffee cup to be refilled.

“My gosh, Manfred!” Olivia said, leaning forward to give him a clap on the arm. “I didn’t know you were in Dallas!”

“Same here,” he said at the same volume level, just loud enough to be heard by the waitstaff. “I thought I saw you last night, but then I said to myself, ‘No, that just can’t be Olivia!’” His voice was light, but he knew his expression was anything but. Olivia smiled at him.

The waiter arrived with the coffeepot to refresh Olivia’s cup. Manfred took the opportunity to order a large breakfast. He would need the fuel.