Mancini set down his cup. “She might be two generations removed, but I guarantee you she’s sharper today than either one of us ever will be. With a Secret Service agent dead on the street, she would not stay in this house without a damn good reason. So, why don’t you tell me what really happened?”

The knot in Jesse’s stomach cinched tighter.

“Detective Mancini?”

Mancini swiveled around on his stool to see Officer Tepper in the hall doorway. “What?” he barked.

“Chief Walpole’s outside. He wants you to come immediately.”

“Tell him I’m finishing an interview, and I’ll be with him in ten minutes.”

Tepper rocked back and forth, anxious to leave but compelled to stay. “I’m sorry, sir. He said to hold whatever you’re doing and join him now.” Tepper gave a nervous glance at Jesse. “There’s another man with him—dark suit, white shirt, but morning stubble on his face.”

Mancini slapped the counter. “Damn. My pension to a doughnut it’s Cory Bradshaw.” He looked at Jesse. “You see, that’s why Ethel didn’t come back to you after Finch died. She called Bradshaw. But I’ll be back. We’re not finished.”

Mancini drained his coffee, slid off the stool, and pushed past Tepper. The patrolman hesitated, not sure whether to follow the detective or guard Jesse. His curiosity won out and he left.

Cory Bradshaw, Jesse thought. The director of the Secret Service came running when Ethel called him. Jesse went to the stairs leading down to the basement. He could hear a disco beat pulsating from below. Ethel and her RBG workout. He needed to talk to her. They had to get their stories straight before Mancini returned.

The sound of the music masked his footsteps. He opened the door at the bottom of the staircase expecting to see Ethel on the treadmill or stair-stepper. Instead, she was sitting on the weight bench with a gym bag at her feet. Beside her and on her lap were rolls of U.S. currency. The bills were curled and bound by rubber bands. She was removing the bands, quickly fanning through the money, and then rebinding them.

“Ethel?”

She looked up without any sign of alarm, like she was counting eggs or apples. “Where’s Frank?”

Jesse walked to her. “Officer Tepper said a Chief Walpole needed to see him. And he thinks Bradshaw might be here.” Jesse stared at the money. “That looks like the gym bag one of the killers carried. How did you get it?”

“From Jonathan’s room. Obviously there were two, and he only got one.”

“But that’s thousands of dollars.”