“It doesn’t sound like much but I know.” Cohen patted the area over his heart. “Tomorrow, I formally retire from the practice of law and prepare myself for what lies ahead. I couldn’t hope for peace of mind if I didn’t tell you.”

He staggered to his feet. Held out a wavering hand for balance, drew himself up. “Good day, gents.”

Milo said, “Can I give you a ride, sir?”

“No, thanks, I don’t live far.” Smiling lopsidedly. “Walking’s good for longevity.”

CHAPTER

25

Milo and I remained on the rim of the fountain. The personal trainer was jogging in place and the retriever was back to running in frantic circles. A new homeless man had wandered in, pushing a shopping cart full of brown things. He spotted us and the malice in his eyes was unmistakable.

Shaking a fist, he kept going.

It’s impossible to know how many street people listen to the worst kind of voices. That made me think about Deirdre Brand. Aggressive panhandler, not unwilling to face off with a man in a suit. Good odds paranoia swirled among the ridges and sulci of her addled brain.

Would someone like that be bought off on the cheap, by a bottle of fortified wine?

In light of Cohen’s account—of all our preconceptions crumbling—that logic began to melt.

Perhaps she’d been killed by a man she’d never met. Someone who knew about her from his lawyer and decided to take matters into his own hands.

Milo’s voice broke into my thoughts. “—you call what just happened with ol’ Earl? A paradigm shift? Think I should take him seriously?”

“He’s a smart man,” I said. “Knows Richard as well as anyone and he has no obvious motive to lie. And if Richard does keep serious cash on hand and uses a prepaid, his previous alibi’s useless.”

“Prepaid. What we figured Frankie might be using.”

“Courtesy of her master. And if Cohen’s right about Corey’s sexual issues, it could explain Corey’s looking for alternatives.”

“Hiring out,” he said. “Doesn’t have to mean a hit man. Could be a girlfriend.”

I stared at him. “Frankie was the shooter?”

“Master–slave setup, why not? Someone with Frankie’s personality—isolated, reads people poorly—she’d be perfect, right? Like one of those cult members, follows the master straight to the grave. Grooming her as a button-girl would be a dandy reason to control her, Alex. It would also be a nifty motive for blowing her brains out when he was through with her.”

I said, “If that’s how it happened, Frankie being familiar with the building takes on a whole new meaning.”