Molina nodded coolly. “And we will look at those files, Mr. Bunker. If you didn’t give Mr. Albanesi the video, where do you think he got it?”

“From Stan Prescott, I think. He knew my source’s name because he’d needed a name and a phone number for accounting purposes. Or so he said. I think he called him and got the video straight from the source.”

Molina nodded once. “All right. Apparently you also visited Miss Callahan’s apartment.”

“I never went in,” Jeff protested.

“How did you get her address?” Agent Hunter asked. “She’s gone to great pains to protect her privacy.”

Because of the roofie guy, Jeff thought glumly. “I asked the second ex—Peter Firmin—if he knew where she worked and he told me to check out the NOPD lab, so I went there and waited until she came out. Then I followed her home. The next day, I got into her building and figured out which apartment was hers and started knocking on her neighbors’ doors. That’s how I met Miss Romero.”

“The deceased,” Agent Hunter clarified.

“Right. I pretended to be selling magazines and talked to Miss Romero for about twenty minutes. She gave me some cookies and told me that Mercy was a good person. That she took Miss Romero to the doctor and made her dinner and baked cookies for all the people in the building. That just left me with more questions, because Miss Romero’s description was nothing like the others. I thanked her and left. That was Thursday afternoon. The next day, this past Friday, I went to the NOPD lab and asked to see Miss Callahan, but I was told she’d taken some personal leave for a family emergency. That was one more thing that didn’t fit, because Miss Romero didn’t mention it at all. So I went back to see the nice old lady.” He swallowed hard. “I was about to knock on her door when I heard a noise inside the apartment. I guess I must have been twitchy, because I ducked around a corner into a hallway. A second later, a man came out of it. He was smiling, but it wasn’t a nice smile. Kind of like the Grinch before his heart grew, y’know?”

Molina still didn’t react. “Would you characterize the man’s smile as evil?”

“At that moment, more creepy. After I saw Miss Romero dead on the floor, definitely.”

“You went into her apartment?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah. Stupid of me. I thought maybe she’d gotten robbed, but the guy who left didn’t look like he was carrying anything. He might have had jewelry stashed in his pockets, but nothing that I saw.”

“What did you do then?”

“For a minute I just stood in the hallway and stared. Then I got worried about the old lady and knocked on the door, but it swung open. He hadn’t pulled it closed. I went in and saw her on the floor, just crumpled in a heap. And I . . .” He looked up at his mother for courage and she gave him a supportive nod. “I picked her up. I thought maybe she’d passed out, so I put her on the sofa and tried to find her pulse. I started to call 911, then realized she was dead.” He dropped his gaze, ashamed once again. “I panicked, plain and simple. I thought the police would blame it on me.”