His gaze moved at such a constant rate that if it wasn’t for the measured breathing, I’d have suspected Gallagher had indeed croaked, and I was looking at an automated version of him. I could even time his visual scan. Eleven seconds from one side to the other.

I waited until he began the right to left scan, counted off five seconds and slid forward, moving between him and his call button. Then I waited. It wasn’t until he scanned all the way back from left to right that he saw me

“Hi,” I said.

He didn’t jump. Didn’t dive for the call button. Didn’t even blink. Just looked at me, gaze moving from my head to my feet, as slow and impassive as if I was a row of security screens. Then he eased back in his chair.

“If you’ve come to rob me, young lady, you’ve made a very serious mistake.” His voice was high pitched, almost squeaky. “There is no money here and you will not get anything from me but a one-way ticket to jail.”

“Jail?” I said.

“I was being polite.”

“Ah. Well, if I was here to rob you, I’m very unprepared.” I lifted my hands, stood and turned around. “No money bags, no cans of mace, not even a gun.”

“So I noticed,” he murmured. “Yet you must have a weapon hidden somewhere on that pretty body. I’d bet on it.”

“How much?”

He tilted his head, gaze traveling over me, studying me with a scientist’s eye. “Unarmed. That is most…peculiar.” His gaze lifted to mine, head slanting the other way. “I do hope, my dear, that you didn’t intend to use your body as your weapon because, I assure you, I am quite immune.”

“Well that’s good, because when it comes to the Mata Hari routine…” I shook my head. “Hopeless. Guns are really more my thing, but that just didn’t seem right. You want to talk to someone, you don’t pull a gun on them. Very disrespectful.”

“Quite so.” He leaned back in his chair. “So you wish to talk? And what would a young lady like you want to talk to me about? Employment, perhaps? An interesting way to go about it. Much more…personally revealing than dropping off a résumé.”

“Actually, it’s an employee I want to talk to you about, not employment. A former employee, that is.” I gestured at the row of screens. “Camera number six. Recognize him?”

He looked for a few seconds, then shook his head.

“Try this. Pick up the phone, dial 555-2978.”

“And say what?”

“Nothing. Just try it. Please.”

He did. The phone in Jack’s pocket vibrated, and he looked straight into the camera, and mouthed something.

“Jack,” Gallagher said, twisting the name into a curse.