“I take it Stella’s pissed because you canceled the honeymoon?”

“What’d she expect? I told her I wouldn’t go until I knew what Teddy was up to. I leave and she’s free to do anything she wants.”

“Don’t be dense, Ari. You canceled because you don’t want to spend time with her. You and Stella are a bust. Get the marriage annulled.”

“And then what?”

“Ask Teddy’s forgiveness and beg her to take you back.”

“She won’t do it. You think she’d do that?”

The elevator door opened and we stepped in. I pressed “B” for the basement level and the doors eased shut. We both stood there, facing forward, while the elevator descended with scarcely a sound.

“Have you ever apologized?”

“For what?”

“For screwing around, Ari. What do you think? Why don’t you just tell her you’re sorry?”

“I am sorry. And I mean that. Dumbest and worst thing I ever did, and I have no excuse.”

“Because what you did was inexcusable.”

“Yeah, but she was a little quick off the mark with divorce papers.”

“Quit trying to shift the blame. Teddy’s not the type to put up with any crap. Stella doesn’t seem remorseful in the least, and that only compounds the injury.”

The elevator door opened onto the gloom of the basement and I gestured Ari ahead of me. “You lead. I’ll get lost. I want to take a look at those CCTV monitors.”

We proceeded through the basement until we reached the room where all the CCTV monitors were set up. A man in uniform sat tilted back in his chair, one foot on the edge of the counter, while he scanned the views. When he realized Ari was there he removed his foot, sat up, and assumed a posture of professional attention. Most cameras were focused on empty rooms and long, empty corridors. The system rotated through a series of static shots, revealing nothing except the well-lighted interiors.

Ari said, “This is Duke. Kinsey Millhone.”

We nodded at each other. Duke was young and didn’t strike me as someone with much experience. The task he’d been given is tougher than it looks. Try to pay strict attention to a set of gauges or dials, or stare out at the empty horizon from the pilothouse of a ship, and you’ll find your mind wandering, making you less effective with every minute that goes by.

As we watched, the cameras continued their silent surveillance.

The chef was in the kitchen, and I could see a maid in uniform vacuuming the living room. No one in the dining room. Downstairs hall. Front door. Bedroom. Bedroom. Living room again; maid still vacuuming. Study. There was something hypnotic about the process.

I said, “I’ll tell you what’s been bothering me. I could see what was right there in front of me, but I didn’t know what it meant. I spoke to Christian Wednesday night and he couldn’t have been more relaxed.”

“You should have called and told me. Why’d you talk to that bum?”