Before Gurney could answer, Hardwick interjected, “You think Alyssa’s the chief manipulator, but a minute ago you said she was all over the place, sounded less than solid—and I agree. She called you, she set up the meeting with you, but in that recording she comes across as pretty erratic—like she had no idea where the conversation might go, like she had no plan. This is a master manipulator?”

Esti spoke up with a knowing smile. “Maybe an overconfident manipulator. But she definitely had a plan.”

“What plan?”

“Probably the same as she had for Klemper. Her plan today was to get Dave into bed, get it all on a hidden camera, and get him to change his approach to the case.”

“Dave’s retired. Pension guaranteed. Doesn’t have a career to lose,” said Hardwick. “Where’s the leverage?”

“He has a wife.” She looked at Gurney. “A video of you in bed with a nineteen-year-old could create a problem, right?”

That didn’t require an answer.

Esti went on. “That was Alyssa’s Plan A. When that little sweetheart makes it clear that she’s available, I doubt many men turn her down. Dave not wanting to play her game probably came as a big surprise. She had no Plan B.”

Hardwick shot a nasty grin in Gurney’s direction. “Saint David here is full of surprises. But tell me something, ace. Why did she admit to you that she had sex with Klemper at all? Why not just deny the whole thing?”

Gurney shrugged. “Maybe someone else knows about it. Or she thinks someone knows about it. So she admits the fact, but lies about the reason. Common enough deception technique. Admit the external action but invent an exculpatory motive.”

“My ex was big on exculpatory motives,” said Esti to no one in particular. She checked her watch. “So what’s the next step?”

“Maybe a little blackmail of our own,” suggested Gurney. “Give Klemper a few shakes and see what comes loose.”

That put a smile on her face. “Sounds good. Anything that rattles that son of a bitch …”

“You want backup?” asked Hardwick.

“Not necessary. Klemper may be an asshole, but he’s not likely to pull a gun on me. Not in a public place, anyway. I just want to explain his situation to him, offer him an option or two.”

Hardwick stared down at the table intently, as if the possible results of such a conversation were listed there. “I need to give Bincher a heads-up on this, see what he thinks.”

“Go ahead,” said Gurney. “Just don’t make it sound like I’m asking for his permission.”

Hardwick took out his phone and entered a number. Apparently it went to voice mail. He made a disgusted face. “Fuck! Where the hell are you, Lex? This is my third attempt. Get back to me for Christ’s sake!”

He ended the call and made another.