“Must be,” I said.

Velda said, “Here’s the thing, Ms. Ryan. We’re not just trying to find the hit-and-run driver. We’re trying to determine if it was a hired job—if your Gino or someone else in Vincent’s life tried to have him killed in what would be written off as an accident.”

“That’s silly,” Sheila said. “I told you—Gino could never afford that. He doesn’t have money or friends with money, either.”

I said, “On the other hand, Colby works in the world of high finance. He may have enemies in those same rarefied circles. And we don’t know yet who in his social circles, which are also pretty damn rarefied, might have a deadly grudge against him. We’ll be looking into that.”

“Another, larger investigative firm,” Velda said, “is exploring the financial world aspects. Someone with Vincent’s wealth, his family’s fortune and standing, can be a target for all sorts of things, for all sorts of reasons.”

The young woman thought about it. Neither Velda nor I pushed her any further. Our case had been made.

Finally Sheila said, “Gino gave me both black eyes. I think you’ve probably already come to that conclusion yourselves. But it’s ridiculous to think he might have hired someone to drive that sports car and try to kill or, what, frighten Vincent off? I hope you’re not assuming, because of his last name, that Gino has Mafia connections or any such foolishness. He’s like me—he came to New York from a small town to be an actor, and he’s still trying to be one, but just like I wound up a waitress, he became a bartender.”

Velda asked, “Are you still pursuing acting?”

“Still making a somewhat half-hearted attempt of it, I admit. I audition, just not as frequently…as doggedly. It wears you down after a while.”

I said encouragingly, “You’re not a waitress. You’re a hostess.”

She laughed a little. “You sure know how to build up a girl, Mr. Hammer.”

Velda was smiling a little. Apparently men can be idiots sometimes. Who knew?

Sheila said, “Before you go, I’ll give you my phone number at my girl friend’s. I’ll help you any way I can. I’ll encourage Vincent to cooperate. He isn’t always Mr. Hyde. Even now, he’s usually Dr. Jekyll.”

She got up, smiled and nodded pleasantly. And now when she returned to her post, the hostess in green glided.

“Getting somewhere,” I said.

“I feel bad for her,” Velda said.

“Why’s that?”

“She’s gone from an abusive boy friend to another guy with a terrible temper. Of course, that doesn’t mean Vincent would strike her or anything, but…it’s an unsettling possibility.”

I shrugged. “Well, it’s helpful to know she’s cooperating with us now.”

Velda nodded. “It is.”

“But I think before this goes any further, I should talk to Casey Shannon, and get the skinny as he sees it where Vincent Colby is concerned. There’s a couple of other suspicious deaths on the fringes here.”

She touched my hand. “I forgot to tell you, Mike. I spoke to Pat this afternoon, on some follow-up on that Penta case.”