“Ready?” he whispered to Rosie.

She nodded.

Dino swung around and charged through the door, his weapon extended. Abney was standing near a window, a gun pointed at his temple.

“Put the gun down, Abney, or I’ll shoot you where you stand,” Dino said.

Abney didn’t move. “Go ahead, shoot me.”

“Now, why would you want me to do that?” Dino asked. “You’ve got years of life ahead of you, all of them in prison. You’ll love it—lots of sex.”

“I’ll shoot myself before I’ll let you take me,” Abney said.

“Go ahead, you son of a bitch!” Dino shouted. “Do us all a favor!”

Abney pulled the trigger, and simultaneously with the noise, the window behind him shattered and blood and brains sprayed all over the wall and the remaining window. Abney collapsed like a felled ox.

Dino walked carefully over to him and kicked the gun away from his body. Dino holstered his weapon and turned to Rosie. “You didn’t hear what I said to him.”

“I didn’t hear anything but the gunshot,” she replied.

“I’ll go call this in,” Dino said. “You go tell the chopper pilot we’re going to be an hour or two. Tell him to call his dispatcher and see if he can wait. If he can’t, he can go, and we’ll take the train back.”

Rosie nodded and headed for the stairs.

Dino looked around the bedroom. It was sweetly decorated, frilly, even. There was nothing remarkable about it: a couple of department-store prints, some yellow curtains, now bloodstained, a bed, unmade.

He walked back down the stairs, got out his cell phone, and called his precinct, then asked for the captain.

“Egan,” a gruff voice said.

“It’s Bacchetti,” he said. “I’m at Ed Abney’s house in East Hampton.” He read him the address. “Abney blew his brains out while we watched.”

“Saves us a lot of trouble,” the captain said. “You want me to get the locals to the house?”

“I don’t see any way around it. I’ll make sure the scene is properly secured and lots of photographs taken, and Rosie and I will give them statements, then we’ll chopper back to the city. My car is at the West Side helipad.”

“Good work, Dino,” the captain said. “You want me to get out a press release, or wait for you?”

“Go ahead. Just say that we gave him every opportunity to surrender, but he chose to end his life. And say that his death solves the murder of Annette Redfield.”

“It will be done.” The captain hung up.

So did Dino. He took a seat on the living room sofa and called Abney’s office.

“Bright Lights, Ink,” the receptionist said.

“This is Lieutenant Bacchetti. I was there earlier today.”

“Yes, sir, I remember.”

“Let me speak to Margie.”

“One moment.”

“This is Margie.”

“It’s Lieutenant Bacchetti. I’m at Abney’s East Hampton house.”

“Did you get him?”

“He got himself—blew half his head off to keep from going to jail.”

She let out a long sigh. “I had a feeling,” she said. “I’ve got his will right here. It was in my safe.” She giggled. “He left me everything: the business, his apartment, the Hamptons house.”