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my coat on one-handed as we stepped out and pressed the inspector’s speed dial.

“Inspector Newman.”

“Inspector, it’s Stone here. Just to let you know, we’ve made an appointment with Senator Hennessy and we are on our way now. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Splendid. Good work, Stone.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Dehan looked at me and gave her head a small shake. “That’s keeping him in the loop?”

I shrugged. “What can I tell you? The man’s busy. I don’t want to waste his time.”

* * *

The Hennessy Foundation was on the 32nd floor of the Rockford Building on 6th Avenue. The reception area was functional, with a deep blue carpet and a white desk set by large, glass double doors emblazoned with a spray of twenty-three stars. The girl behind it was regulation-pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes and a smile that was friendly but tinted with arrogance, Hennessy was the People’s Woman, and anybody on her team was a cut above the common man. Orwell would have known exactly what they were about.

I showed the girl my badge and she tried not to wince. Ugly truth had no place in the Hennessy Foundation. “I’m Detective Stone, this is Detective Dehan. We’re here to see Senator Hennessy.”

She narrowed her eyes so that her smile stopped looking like a smile. “Have you got an appointment?”

“I don’t know.”

“See, you’re going to need an appointment.”

I looked at her with no expression until she blinked and started to look nervous, then I said, “Call D’Angelo and tell him we’re here.”

She picked up her phone and pressed a button.

“Mr. D’Angelo, there are two detectives here to see the senator… Yes, sir.” She hung up and looked at me with unhappy eyes. “He’ll be here in just a moment if you would like to wait over there.” She pointed at some blue chairs up against the wall. I didn’t look at them. I kept watching her without expression.

“What happens if I don’t want to wait there? What happens if I want to wait somewhere else?”

“You can wait wherever you like, sir.”

“I know. I’m a cop.”

I turned to face Dehan. She had her coat open and her hands thrust in the back pockets of her jeans. She was eyeing me with a small frown on her brow. I shrugged. “In the bad old days, they used to tell you what you couldn’t do. Today they tell you what you have to do. It gets on my nerves.”

The doors opened and man in an Italian suit, who looked as if he’d been shrink-wrapped after grooming, stepped out and approached us.

“Detectives Stone and Dehan.” He held out his hand and as we shook it he said, “The Hennessy Foundation welcomes you.”

I smiled. “How about you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Where is Senator Hennessy?”

“As I told you on the telephone, she is not available to answer your questions.”

“Okay, D’Angelo, let’s go somewhere where we can talk privately, because there are some things I need to explain to you so that you understand them.”

He gave a small intake of breath that was not quite a gasp and said, “Please follow me.”

He led us through the double glass doors across a large, open-plan room carpeted in blue and into a small conference room, about thirty feet by twenty. There was a large, high-gloss oval table in the middle with twelve chairs around it. There were no windows. I pulled out a chair and sat. Dehan sat next to me and D’Angelo hesitated a moment. I nodded at a chair and said, “Sit.”

He sat.

“These bullying tactics will not get you anywhere, Detective Stone.”

I raised a hand. “Lets quit the posturing and cut to the chase. I need to talk to Hennessy. More to the point, she needs to talk to me. Now, I don’t know what kind of access you have to her…”

“I am her personal secretary.” There was no expression on his face when he said it, but you could smell the pride. Maybe it was his pheromones.

“Good, so you need to make her understand that we are investigating the David Thorndike murder. I want you to make a note of that name…”

He nodded once. “I have.”

“And we need to know what happened to the original manuscript of his article, and his original notes on his laptop. Have you understood that clearly, D’Angelo?”

He blinked three times before he answered.

“Yes, I have understood.”

I studied his face closely. He looked about forty-one or two, but he might have been as much as forty-seven. I asked him, “How long have you worked for Hennessy?”

“I have worked for the Hennessy Foundation for twenty years.”

“So you must remember the Thorndike case.”

He gave his head a small shake. “Not really.”

“But you must understand how important it could be to Senator Hennessy…”

“I am not qualified to comment on that point.”

I nodded and smiled. “Sure. But I am. I am going to expect a call tomorrow, arranging a meeting with the senator. Now, one way or another I am going to see her and talk to her. It can either be in a discreet, private interview here, in her offices, or it can be in a very public display, down at the station in the Bronx.”

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “You can’t force her to go down to the station.”

I leered at him. “Are you sure about that, D’Angelo? According to New York state law, under what circumstances can I take her downtown?”

He hesitated for a second, “Only under arrest.”

I leaned forward. “Talk to your boss, D’Angelo. Let’s get this resolved quietly and without embarrassing anybody. I think Carol Hennessy has had more than enough embarrassment in her career already, don’t you, Dehan?”

She nodded. “I reckon so, Stone. Sometimes a simple conversation

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