I needed the answer to one more question. “Do you happen to know if Jett’s been having any problems like that?”

“If he wasn’t, he’d be unique. But I don’t know for sure. Why don’t you ask him?”

I did just that. I rolled over, picked up the phone and dialed Jett’s private line. Tamar answered, and called to Jett that it was for him. A couple of moments later, he was on the line.

“Hi, Jett. Just a quick query. You know you told me Moira thought you were having problems with merchandising rip-offs? I mean copycat versions of your tour T-shirts and sweatshirts, that kind of thing? Did she give you anything specific?”

“Well, she didn’t exactly, but there was a load of fake stuff around on the last tour. I got Kevin to call in the cops, but they apparently couldn’t find anything. But what’s that got to do with Moira?”

“It may have nothing to do with her murder at all, but I believe she had some information connecting the fake merchandise to someone who works for you,” I said cautiously.

There was a long silence from the other end of the phone. I almost thought we’d been cut off when Jett finally said, “She should have come straight to me. She knows I wouldn’t stand on for that. Do you know who it was?”

“Not yet,” I stalled.

“Well, find out, and when you do, you let me know. You hear?”

“Will do, Jett. Good night.”

He put the phone down. Before I untucked the receiver from my chin, I heard the sound of another phone clicking into place. Interesting. Someone had been listening in.

It all fitted. Moira had told Maggie that she’d seen someone

Then I remembered something that hadn’t registered at the time. When Kevin had appeared on the landing after the police arrived, he’d been suited up. Not even his tie had been loosened. Now, I know people who fall into bed with their clothes on, but Kevin didn’t strike me as one of them.

“Penny for them, Brannigan,” Richard said. The sound of his voice startled me. I’d almost forgotten he was there.

I lay down beside him and thought about sharing my ideas with him. By the time I’d decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea, his soft, regular breathing told me that the only information I’d be getting into his head would be subliminal. Richard was out for the count.

I couldn’t believe it when the phone woke me up yet again. Blearily, I disentangled myself from Richard and grabbed the phone, checking the clock. Five past seven. This was getting silly.

“Kate Brannigan,” I barked.

“All right, kid? Sorry to wake you. It’s Alexis here.”