“Listen,” she said. “This was not like Citibank. We didn’t have staff meetings. I saw him once in a while, but usually it was all over the phone. And I’d pick up the money. Mostly from Maria.”

She described Raymond: short, thin, muddy-brown hair, pronounced nose, thin moustache, angular face, maybe forty-five. Looked like a squirrel.

“What else?” Dunne queried.

“Once he told me he was in the Marines. I couldn’t see it. Don’t they have a height requirement or something?”

“And …” Dunne said. He could tell she was keeping something back.

“I hate getting into this stuff,” she said.

“What stuff, Miss Silva?”

“It’s so stereotypical.”

“What is?”

She was silent.

“What is?” Dunne repeated.

“You’re missing the good stuff,” she called to Addis in the living room.

Addis returned to the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

“Ms. Silva?” Dunne said.

She tossed her head.

“Okay, he’s gay,” she said. “Runs an escort service—well, not exactly an escort service, but close enough—and he’s gay and hangs out in the bars. I don’t know. It’s like too much a type. You know what I mean?”

“I appreciate your sentiments,” Dunne replied, “but I’m just asking for details that might be useful in case we want to find him.”

“Yeah, it’s not like I’m so PC, but …”

“How do you know about Raymond’s social life?”

“He mentioned it to me when he first interviewed me. I think to convince me that he doesn’t hit on his girls. It wasn’t a big deal. He paid well and never tried any funny stuff. That’s all I cared about.”

Silva was talking to Dunne, but her eyes were on Addis.

“Do you know which bars?” Dunne asked.

“No.”

“Would you know where to find him if you had to?”

“I guess not,” she said. “Just at the office. When I heard about Allison, I called him, and there was no answer. I didn’t know what to do …”

A tear moved down her face and met her lip.

“And never any word from Raymond.”

She shook her head.

“After that you immediately changed your phone number?”

“Yes.”

Dunne thanked Silva for her cooperation. He gave her his home phone number and asked her to call if she thought of anything else.

“And do you have a number?” she said to Addis.

“You can call the White House switchboard and ask for me.”

She looked disappointed.

“But you’re going to keep my name out of this, right?” She was still talking to Addis.

He did not see how that could be done in the long run. He waited for Dunne to speak.

“As long as possible, Miss Silva,” Dunne said.