He studied the shot. “Girl like this isn’t going to be a throwaway, someone’s bound to report her missing. So why isn’t she in the database?”

“Maybe someone forgot to enter it.”

“Human error? Oh, come now.”

A call to Missing Persons revealed that Dahlia Gemein’s disappearance had never been reported. Follow-ups everywhere else confirmed the same.

Milo slumped. “For all we know, she’s not missing. She and Teddy fell in love, she went back to Sranil with him, is living the life of a princess, and there goes Helga’s motive.”

He checked with Moe Reed. “Your source out yet?”

“Out and right here, Loo. See you in about twenty.”

CHAPTER

27

Ati Meneng was tiny, gorgeous, terrified.

She looked ten years younger than the twenty-nine listed on her driver’s license, took up so little space that Milo put her in his office and had room to spare.

Standard California license, no special consulate perks. She typed documents in the secretarial pool.

She had on a cinnamon-colored pantsuit that covered everything but hands and face. The office was warm but that didn’t stop her from shivering. Tilting her head, she created a glossy sheet of blue-black hair that masked her face. “I still don’t know why I’m here.”

Milo said, “Just what I told you, Ati. You’re helping us and we really appreciate it.”

“There’s nothing I can help you with.”

Milo wheeled his chair closer. “This doesn’t need to be stressful, Ati.”

I sat just inside the open door. Moe Reed stood behind me. Young guy with a fondness for Aqua Velva. My father had slapped it on religiously, cursing as the alcohol ignited booze-inspired shaving nicks.

If Reed was breathing, I couldn’t hear it.

Milo said, “Is it okay if I call you Ati?”

Murmurs from behind the hair curtain.

“What’s that?”

“Call me what you want.”

“Thanks, Ati. First off, we’re sorry we had to take you away in the middle of work but this is a murder investigation. If you have problems with your boss, I can talk to him.”

“No, don’t. I don’t know about murder.” Crystalline voice, no accent.

Milo said, “How long have you been living in L.A., Ati?”

Hair slithered away like glycerine on glass, revealing a flawless oval face, pouty-lipped, ruled by enormous black eyes. “All my life.”

“Where’d you grow up?”

“Downey.”

“How’d you come to work at the Indonesian consulate?”

“They advertised in an Indonesian paper. Needed someone who knew Dutch, my parents speak Dutch in the house.”

“How long have you been working there?”

“Like nine months.”

“And before that?”

“A bunch of places.”

“Such as?”

“Why is that important?”

“Just trying to get to know you, Ati.”

“Why?”

Milo rolled back a few inches. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks.”

“Tell me about some of your previous jobs.”

“Mostly temps.”