“I have something for you,” he said, reaching into his jacket with the handkerchief to withdraw a letter-sized white envelope. “As you heard on the recording, she’s a prostitute. I’m sure of that. Besides her name, that’s all I know. Inside this envelope are several photographs of her that I took. Her face is partially obscured, and I never got a clean a shot, because I was trying to be discreet. But I’ve also included a flash drive with an MP3 voice sample that could be used for matching purposes, as well as the girl’s fingerprint, which I lifted using a piece of Scotch tape off the chair she was sitting on. Do you know people who could help?” ”

“I might.”

“I heard her mention she was living in D.C.”

“Well, that might be useful.”

Double M handed over the envelope. Darlene’s heart sank as she flipped through four grainy color photographs of a titian-haired, blindfolded girl with a willowy frame, both seated upon and standing beside a wooden chair. Not much. Not much at all.

“I’m not making any promises,” Darlene said. “I assume from the precautions not to leave your fingerprints that I can keep these.”

Double M adjusted the electrolarynx against the side of his trachea. “I was hoping you would. If I learn any more, I’ll get the information to you.”

“Come on, Alex. You can at least be honest enough to tell me you’re holding stuff back.”

“Okay, let’s just say I’ve told you everything I can.”

“May I ask why you approached me and not my husband?”

“Your husband won’t believe the tape recording is real. In addition, he has too much to lose by reneging on his stance. He respected Russell Evans when he nominated him, but he’s not nearly as intensely connected to the man and his policies as you are.”

“And how are you so sure about my feelings toward Evans?”

“Because I read your interview in Time magazine where you talked about knowing him since you were children, and you likened him to your own father. I did extensive research about you. From what I’ve learned, I know that the comparison to your father isn’t something you would have made lightly.”

Darlene was impressed. “Just so I’m clear—you want my help to find this girl, and then I’m to arrange a meeting between her and my husband. I would be doing this to convince my husband that Russ Evans was framed and must be reinstated.”

“That’s correct. I also suspect he would have to arrange some sort of a presidential pardon for Margo.”

At that moment, a small pink rubber ball arced out from the bathroom window and bounced several times across the alley before disappearing under a car.