Ethel turned around. “Oh, I didn’t realize you didn’t want the omelet after all.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. You win. Anything else?”

“Yes. Ask Cory if they found keys on Norwood’s body.”

“Keys?”

“More specifically, a house key. I think Cory’s going to find someone has beaten him to Norwood’s home.”

Mancini considered this. “Then maybe I should ask him now.”

“Your call, Frank. You know I’m not one to tell you how to do your job. But if you get him, remind him to send me photos of the agents who worked with Norwood on the counterfeiting case. I might be able to match one to the man I partially glimpsed cruising by the Finch house. The man who probably broke in and searched it.”

Mancini pulled out his cell phone. “You know, a little chopped onion in that omelet would be nice.”

Upstairs, Lisa Draper sat on the edge of her bed, fully clothed, but not ready to leave her room. She’d cracked her door and could hear muffled voices from downstairs. Maybe Jesse was up. She didn’t think it was Douglas. His car hadn’t been parked overnight. Then she heard Jesse’s footsteps padding down the hall to the shared bathroom. Hers was the only upstairs bedroom with its own bath, which Ethel reserved for any female roomer.

One of the voices grew a little louder, and she recognized it as Detective Frank Mancini’s. She checked the time. Six forty-five. He had to be bringing important news to show up so early. Her curiosity tempted her to tiptoe to the top of the rear stairway where she might overhear the conversation, but the possibility of Jesse discovering her when he emerged from the bathroom nixed that action.

Then she had another thought. Ethel probably wouldn’t tell her what was going on, but she might tell her something-cousin Jesse. He seemed to be the one the elderly landlady was confiding in.

Lisa rose from the bed and checked herself in the mirror hanging over the bureau. Her eyes looked puffy from lack of sleep. Her white blouse was no longer crisp. More makeup and a change of clothes might have the desired effect on a grad student whose girlfriend was across the ocean. Not that Lisa would be a seductress, just a charming woman interested in engaging him in a flirtatious conversation, a conversation she would guide to the questions she hoped would yield information. Now that she had the ear of the director of the FBI, she wanted to keep that inside track and protect the access that could serve her so well.

Maybe she already had something to report. She grabbed her phone and scrolled back through her call log. She found the private number Director Rudy Hauser had used.