Amusing the boss translated to a quarter hour of near-silent scarfing. The chief was a lean man but he had a staggering capacity for intake. We watched him polish off the ribs and pick all the shrimp out of the rice before he shot a French cuff and smiled at his Patek Philippe. On cue, the burly duo got up and headed toward us. The chief got to his feet, buttoned his jacket.

He looked down at Milo. “Who’s paying for this repast?”

Milo said, “If you’d like—”

“Just kidding, Sturgis, I don’t exploit the workingman. Or in your case, Doc, the theorizing man.”

He threw bills on the table. “Stay as long as you like. Just be gone in ten minutes so you can resume what the city pays you for, Sturgis.”

Before his minions could reach him, he race-walked out of the room.

Milo looked at the picked-over rice. “Would your Hollywood buddies call that a good meeting?”

“My buddies?”

“Contacts, whatever.”

“Well,” I said, “depends on whether the picture gets made.”

We left the restaurant, headed to a parking lot across Hill Street.

Milo said, “He talked a good case but what I got out of it was ‘let’s stall.’ ”

“Why’d you call him?”

“I didn’t, I called Maria. She listened, hung up, two minutes later his secretary informs me where to go for lunch.”

I said, “He’s got to know he can’t forestall the inevitable.”

“Maybe, but he’ll sure try. So with Prema getting the bugs and the tools, what’s our theory?”

“Maybe competitive culling.”

“Meaning?”

“One female eliminates another’s offspring in order to maintain dominance and eliminate competition for the desirable male. Big cats and primates do it all the time, and where polygamy exists, humans do it, too.”

“Donny’s the baby’s daddy?”

“Movie star, attractive younger woman with a penchant for manipulation?”

“Yeah, that’s a recipe. So what, Donny was big-time naughty with Qeesha—Simone, whatever—but Prema wants to hold on to him anyway?”

“Prema wants to avoid public humiliation.”

“Manipulation,” he said. “If it’s true, think Qeesha planned to get pregnant?”

“Could be. A baby with Donny Rader could kick up her lifestyle.”

“If she held on to her life.”

I said, “Maybe Qeesha wanted more than generous child support. Maybe she thought she could actually replace the Queen Bee. Unfortunately for her, the Queen figured it out and took care of business. That could explain why the bones were treated so cruelly: deconstructing the competition, reducing the problem to a lab specimen in a coldly efficient way. It would also serve as a warning to Donny. Look what I’m capable of when I’m threatened.”

“Where does Wedd fit in?”