Cab sized up the young woman in front of him. She was pretty in a Carey Mulligan way, with page-boy blond hair and freckles. Her tiny mouth was constantly changing expressions, and her blue eyes had a luminous intensity. Her expression was severe and suspicious, like a yipper dog growling to protect its turf. She obviously had a paranoid streak, because he didn’t think anyone had ever studied his identification more carefully. After holding it up to the light and comparing his photograph, she called the Naples Police to get a description of him.

Finally, she hung up.

Cab smiled at her. ‘So? Am I me?’

‘They said if my head came up higher than your neck, it wasn’t you.’

‘I hope they mentioned the earring, too. And the hair gel.’

‘They said it was a pomade from London.’

‘They obviously know me too well,’ Cab said. ‘So now that you know who I am, how about you tell me who you are.’

She sat on the other side of the conference table with her hands folded in front of her. The oversized armchair made her look small. ‘Peach Piper.’

Cab heard the name and made the connection. ‘As in Lyle Piper?’

‘My brother.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Peach shrugged. ‘What do you want, Detective Bolton?’

Cab didn’t answer immediately. His eyes wandered around the conference room. He spotted the frozen video on the television, and as he did, Peach reached for the remote control and shut it off. The Governor’s face disappeared. He glanced out the window behind him at the cubicle farm and saw dozens of earnest workers in their twenties with bad haircuts. The room hummed with the white noise of air conditioning.

He noted the arrangement of papers around him and realized that Peach hadn’t been alone in the conference room. Someone had been here with her, but whoever it was had left quickly.

‘What exactly do you people do here?’ he asked. ‘This place is kind of shabby for a big-name foundation, isn’t it?’

‘We do research.’

‘What kind of research?’

‘Political research,’ Peach said.

Cab nodded. The girl didn’t want to give him details. ‘I get it. Secret, world-changing stuff, huh? You could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me?’

‘Something like that,’ Peach replied.

‘I thought opposition research was about catching politicians saying stupid things. How tough can that be? It’s like shooting fish in a barrel, isn’t it?’

Peach didn’t reply, but her lips twitched with the tiniest of smiles, as if she were finally succumbing to his charm. ‘You still haven’t told me what you want.’

Cab didn’t answer right away. He liked to meander with witnesses, which usually made them nervous and anxious to talk. Silence made people uncomfortable, especially around cops. However, as young as this girl was, she didn’t rattle easily or open her mouth. Behind her paranoia, Peach was obviously smart.