“My name is Henrietta Maxine Morgan; I live at Seventy-one West Tenth Street in Manhattan. I am employed as a makeup artist by the news division of the Continental Network.” Her voice quavered a bit, but she was calm.

“Ms. Morgan, have you been advised of your rights under the Constitution of the United States?”

“I have been.”

“Are you making this statement voluntarily?”

“I am.”

“Have you been subjected to any duress with regard to this statement?”

“No.”

“Ms. Morgan, how long have you been employed by the Continental Network?”

“Just over three months.”

“And when did you first meet Sasha Nijinsky?”

“Shortly after I joined the network. I did her makeup once, substituting for someone who was out sick, and she began asking for me.”

“Did you and Ms. Nijinsky become friends?”

“Yes.”

“How long ago?”

“We were on friendly terms from the beginning. We began to become…close about eight weeks ago.”

“Did you, in fact, enter into a romantic relationship with Ms. Nijinsky?”

“Yes.”

“A relationship of a sexual nature?”

Morgan gulped. “Yes.”

“Were you in love with Ms. Nijinsky?”

“Yes.”

“And was she in love with you?”

“Yes.”

“Did she tell you she loved you, in so many words?”

“Yes. Many times.”

“Were you aware that, during the same period Ms. Nijinsky was seeing you, she was also having an affair with a man?”

Morgan looked away for the first time. “Yes. She told me so.”

“Did she tell you who this man was?”

“No.”

“Did she give you any indication, any hint at all as to his identity?”

“No. She referred to him as ‘What’s-his-name.’”

That rang a bell from Sasha’s diary. “How often did you see Ms. Nijinsky outside of working hours?”

“Two or three nights a week; sometimes four.”

“Where did these meetings take place?”

“Either at my apartment or at hers.”

“And when was the last occasion you saw Ms. Nijinsky?”

“The night before she disappeared.”

“Where did this meeting take place?”

“At her apartment.”

Stone paused. “Did you not tell me on a previous occasion that this meeting took place at your apartment?”

“I have no recollection of that,” Morgan replied smoothly.

Why was she changing her story? What did it matter where that particular meeting took place? “Did anyone see you in Ms. Nijinsky’s building that night?”

“The doorman saw me when we came in together. It must have been around nine o’clock. He was asleep when I left. That was around four in the morning.”

“What did you and Ms. Nijinsky do that evening?”

“I helped her pack her things; she was moving to a new apartment in a day or two. We had a late dinner and drank a bottle of wine together.” She paused. “We made love. It was a very happy evening.”

“And when did you next see Ms. Nijinsky?”

“I never saw her again.”