“I’ve heard rumors about the two of you.”

“Oh, yes. Our famous Tavern on the Green tryst,” Berger said.

They skimmed through the typical mundane electronic exchanges that people fire back and forth.

“That murder in Central Park last fall,” Lucy said. “The marathon runner raped and strangled. Near the Ramble.”

“Morales drove me to the scene. Afterwards, we stopped by Tavern on the Green for coffee and to talk about the case. Next thing, it’s all over the city that we’re an item.”

“That’s because it was in Gotham Gotcha. One of the infamous sightings. Including a photograph of the two of you looking cozy,” Lucy said.

“Don’t tell me you have search engines chugging after me morning, noon, and night.”

“My search engines don’t chug,” Lucy said. “They’re a little faster than that. The source of information for that gossip column is mainly what the readers send in. Almost always anonymously. How do you know he didn’t?”

“That would have been pretty clever of him. Taking a photograph of both of us while we were sitting across the table from each other.”

“Or getting somebody else to,” Lucy said. “Quite a feather in his cap. The superstud detective having a cozy tryst at Tavern on the Green with the superstar DA. Be careful of him.”

“In case you missed the important point, we weren’t having a tryst,” Berger said. “We were having coffee.”

“I have a funny feeling about him. Maybe recognize certain traits even though I haven’t met him. Someone who should have complete power over him, outranks him, outclasses him, and he, quote, prioritizes. He makes you wait your turn in line? Makes himself the center of your attention in a negative way, because he aggressively trips you up at every chance? Who’s got the power? A tried-and- true trick. Assert dominance, be disrespectful, and next thing, the big boss is in your bed.”

“I didn’t realize you’re such an expert,” Berger said.

“Not that kind of expert. When I’ve had sex with a guy, it’s never been because he dominated me. It’s always been because I made a mistake.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did,” Berger said.

She skimmed through e-mails. Lucy fell silent.

“I apologize,” Berger again said. “Morales makes me angry because, you’re right, I can’t control him and I can’t get rid of him. People like him shouldn’t go into policing. They don’t blend with the rank and file. They don’t take orders. They’re not team players, and everybody hates them.”