I nodded. "On the phone you said something about your boyfriend."

"My fianc+!. I think that he's mixed up in some kind of criminal thing. I've asked him, and he denies it, but I know that something's going on. I think he's scared, and that worries me. My fianc+! is not scared of very much."

I nodded again and tucked that away. Fearless Fianc+!. "Okay. What kind of crime are we talking about?"

"I don't know."

"Is he stealing cars?"

"I don't think so."

"Is he embezzling?"

"No. It wouldn't be that."

"How about fraud?"

She shook her head.

"We're running out of choices, Ms. Sheridan."

She glanced into the big purse as if there were something inside it that she was hoping she wouldn't have to show me, as if the purse were somehow a point of no return, and if she opened it and let out whatever was inside, she would never be able to close it again or return the elements of her life to a comfortable or familiar order. Pandora's Purse. Maybe if I had a purse like that, I'd be careful of it, too.

I said, "I know if s hard, Ms. Sheridan. If it was easy, you wouldn't need me. But if you don't tell me about him, or what you think he is up to, I can't help you. Do you see that?"

She nodded and held the purse tighter.

I took out a yellow legal pad, a black SenseMatic pencil, and made as if I were poised to copy the rush of information she was about to provide. I drew a couple of practice marks on the page. Subliminal prompting. "I'm ready. Fire away."

She swallowed.

"Anytime."

She stared at the floor.

I put the pad on the desk and the pencil on the pad. I put my fingertips together and looked at Jennifer Sheridan through the steeple, and then I looked at the Pinocchio clock that I've got on my wall. It has eyes that swing from side to side as it tocks, and if s always smiling. Happiness is contagious. It was twelve twenty-two, and if I could get down to the deli fast enough, the turkey would still be moist and the baguette would still be edible. I said, "Maybe you should go to the police, Ms. Sheridan. I don't think I can help you."

She clutched the purse even tighter and gave miserable. "I can't do that."

I spread my hands and stood up. "If your fianc+! is in danger, it is better to get in trouble with the police than it is to be hurt or killed." Twelve twenty-three. "Try the police, Ms. Sheridan. The police can help you."

"I can't do that, Mr. Cole." The misery turned into fear. "My fianc+! is the police."

"Oh." Now it was my turn. I sat down.