She said nothing.

“The police aren’t getting anywhere,” I said, “but of course they aren’t aware of certain things.”

She said nothing.

“I’m hoping you’ll be frank with me,” I said, “and confirm, or convincingly deny, that you and Colby are seeing each other… behind your other boy friend’s back. And perhaps you can substantiate that this other boy friend found out about it, and wasn’t happy.”

She said nothing.

Velda gave it a try, saying, “One of your two admirers gave you that black eye. The second in a couple of weeks. That’s quite a collection you’re racking up there, Ms. Ryan.”

She said nothing.

I asked, “Was it your friend behind the bar?”

Gino’s eyes were on us, burning like coals.

She said nothing.

I said, “Or maybe Colby did it. Maybe you’re not seeing him, but he’s been hounding you, even stalking you, and you confronted him and he lost his head, demanding you break it off with Mazzini. Colby’s a regular Jekyll and Hyde these days, thanks to that ‘accident.’”

She glared and me and clenched teeth parted only enough for her to get out a few bitter words: “I thought you were smart. You’re the famous Mike Hammer, big detective.”

“Famous enough,” I said with a shrug. “Big enough, too, maybe. But you imply I’m also not smart enough—smart enough for what?”

The words came quick. “Vincent hadn’t been hit by that car yet when you saw me with a black eye. These…outbursts of his were caused by that concussion, which hadn’t even fucking happened yet!”

I grinned. “So you two are an item.”

Even with her features tightened up in anger, she was a beauty. “I told you before—we’re just friends.”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, honey, and it’s not the way you look at a friend. More like a famished man views a meal.”

She huffed a feminine grunt. “Believe what you like.”

Velda touched the young woman’s arm. “Ms. Ryan, Sheila—please understand. All we’re trying to do is help Vincent Colby.”

She shook her head, seeming more frustrated than angry. “What does it matter who hit Vincent in what car? How does that help him? He’s…he’s been hurt…he’s…having a terrible time of it. He might have died.” She choked back emotion. “All right. All right! I’ve been seeing him. At first, I…he pressed so hard, he was so insistent, it made me uncomfortable. And I was seeing someone else…”

“Gino,” Velda said.

Sheila nodded. “Yes, but Vincent was so attentive, so tender, so…it sounds silly, but…adoring.” Her eyes went to Velda, beseechingly. “You probably know what that feels like, Ms. Sterling. You’re a lovely woman, a stunning woman. You’ve had men adore you, haven’t you?’

I said, “She has one right now.”

Sheila actually smiled a little. “I’ve broken it off with Gino. We’re through. He knows that.”

Velda said, “He gave you that eye.”

She nodded. “But I’ve moved out on him. We were sharing an apartment in the Village. I’m with a girl friend now. Gino is past history. But it’s just…tricky. It’s hard. To still work where he does.”