I waited a moment, to be sure she was serious. “What’s the first thing you did? Called Gabriel. The next thing you’d have done, I’m sure, is blame him. Six months ago Gabriel Walsh was charged with the murder of my fiancé. Now he’s investigated in the suspicious disappearance of his long-lost drug addict mother? Once that hit the news, he’d undoubtedly get a phone call from his supposed mother, offering to rectify this terrible misunderstanding…for a price.”

“I’ll take multiple samples of the blood,” the tech called over. “And I’ll make a note to check for freshness.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Olivia’s theory is almost certainly the answer to your puzzle, Detective,” Gabriel said. “She shouldn’t have needed to reach it first. You’re a seasoned investigator. She’s only had her license for a few months.”

“Might also explain why you got passed over for that promotion,” I said.

Gabriel’s look of mild reproach said I didn’t need to bring that into it.

“Do you drive a red Maserati, Ms. Jones?” Fahy asked. “One of my dad’s old cars, yes.”

“Do you know what was seen parked on the street out front earlier this evening? After Ms. Walsh checked in?”

“Let me guess…a red Maserati? What time was that?”

She checked her notes. “Seven p.m.”

“At which time I was an hour outside the city, picking up dinner with Gabriel. I’ll give you the details. The guy at the restaurant will remember us—he recognized me from newspaper photos and said he never thought my parents were guilty.”

“A Maserati is not terribly rare in a city the size of Chicago,” Gabriel said. “And red must be the most common color. You have a license number, I’m sure?”

Her silence said she didn’t.

“If that’s all…” Gabriel said.

“This stinks, Walsh. It really stinks.”

“I would agree, and I believe Olivia is correct that I am about to be the victim of extortion. I’ll expect to have the full support of the CPD in countering this attack.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The manager, understandably eager not to let guests know they had a potential murder scene, didn’t object when Gabriel said we wanted to speak to him. He scooted us into an office and answered everything we asked. Then he produced the employee who’d checked Seanna in, and she gave enough detail to confirm our suspicion on who’d been responsible for that. Next the manager brought the man Seanna picked up in the bar, who’d been told by the police not to leave and was anxiously awaiting the go-ahead to escape. If he spoke to us because he mistakenly thought we could grant his reprieve, that was hardly our fault.

As we left the hotel, Lloergan appeared and fell in at my side. Our first stop was the presumed point of egress: the fourth-floor window.