Archie waved the smoke away, out of his eyes. “I don’t care about your business, Jack,” he said. It was true enough. All the years that Archie had come to this house, updating Jack on the investigation into his daughter’s death, he had always treated him like any other bereaved family member. It didn’t matter to Archie what Jack did for a living. Jack had lost his daughter. So Archie overlooked the rest of it.

Jack nodded to himself. “Leo invited you,” he repeated skeptically.

Archie played his ace card. “It’s my birthday.”

Jack studied his cigar for a moment. Then he nodded at Karim, and Karim stood up and took a step toward Archie.

“May I?” Karim asked pleasantly.

Archie stood as well and lifted his arms. “Inside left pocket,” Archie said.

Karim reached inside Archie’s jacket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and extracted Archie’s driver’s license and then took it to the desk lamp to study it. After a minute he returned the wallet and the license to Archie. “Happy birthday,” he said to Archie.

“He must have forgotten to put you on the list,” Jack said.

“Must have,” Archie said.

“You’ll need a mask,” Jack said. He reached around and picked a mask off his desk and handed it to Archie. It was a shiny black plastic oval, with two holes for the eyes and a curved mold over the nose. A white elastic band was stapled to each side. Archie took the mask, but he didn’t put it on.

“If he’s not on the list, he hasn’t been vetted,” Karim pointed out.

“He’s a cop,” Jack said. “I think we can trust him not to steal the silverware.”

“I don’t like it,” Karim said. He glanced at Archie. “No offense.”

“He caught my daughter’s killer,” Jack said. “I think he’s earned access to the no-host bar.”

No mention of Jeremy, Archie noticed. Jack had edited out that part of the story. Archie couldn’t help himself. “She killed your son, too,” Archie said.

“I owe her for that one,” Jack said. He said it easily, like it was something he said all the time. Then he directed a shrug in Karim’s direction. “My waste-of-space youngest went apeshit last year,” he explained without emotion. “Tried to kill our friend here with an ax. Turns out he was harboring an unhealthy fascination with the Beauty Killer.”

Aren’t we all? thought Archie.

“The shrinks blamed his sister’s murder,” Jack continued, “said he never got over it. But he always had a weak mind.”

Archie had no doubt that Isabel’s murder had fucked Jeremy up; but his father had played a role in Jeremy’s deterioration, as well. “I guess that explains why I didn’t see you at the funeral,” Archie said.