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me see if I understand you, Mr. Lee. If what you are saying is right, and Dave posed no threat to Carol Hennessy…” She spread her hands. “No more threat than a thousand cranks on the web, then it follows that she and her team were probably not even aware of him.”

He nodded. His expression was one of relief. “I am pretty convinced of that, detective. I would lay money on it. They didn’t even know he existed.”

“So, if that is correct, this apparent execution-style killing was no such thing.”

“That’s going a little beyond where I am qualified to go, detective, but if I were her defense attorney, I’d be asking, what makes it an execution? The fact that he was shot once in the head? That doesn’t make it an execution, right? That just means the killer was a cold-blooded son—or daughter—of a bitch! In fact, correct me if I’m wrong,” another small laugh, “but isn’t the classic execution in the back of the head? You make the guy kneel down and shoot him at the base of the skull. I’d say a shot in the face, or the forehead, is not an execution. I’d say it was pretty personal. You’re looking right into the victim’s eyes, right?”

“So, really, cutting right to the chase, Mr. Lee, what you are saying is that your money is on Katie. Your personal opinion is that Katie killed Dave.”

He raised both his hands palm out as though he was backing away from her. “Woah! I never said that!”

She pressed him. “But it is what you are implying, isn’t it? If it was not an execution motivated by his proposed article, then who else would have reason to kill him?” He hesitated but she supplied the words. “Samantha or Katie? Who else?”

He shook his head. “Not Samantha.”

“She didn’t even know about Katie or the apartment at that time. She didn’t find out until after he was killed.”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

Dehan glanced at me. “So who does that leave us?”

He ran his fingers through his hair again. “Well, I mean, when you put it like that, I guess… But really, detectives, it is not my place. I just thought I should tell you about the content of my meetings with Dave at that time.”

I nodded and smiled at him. “And I am very glad you did, Mr. Lee. It has been very helpful. Was there anything else?”

He shook his head. “No. That was it.” He glanced at his watch and smiled at us apologetically. “I should really be getting on.”

“Sure.”

We all stood and he shook hands with us. “I hope I haven’t confused things even more than they were already!”

I put my hand on his shoulder and guided him toward the door. “Not all, Mr. Lee. You have been a great help.”

I watched him go down the stairs and turned to look at Dehan, leaning on the doorjamb of the interrogation room. She said, “So he was pretty subtle about it, but he made a real play to shift the suspicion onto Katie.”

I nodded. “He did. He did do that.” I walked back and stood looking down at her. “And I am still trying to decide whether there was a veiled threat in among all that bullshit.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I got that, too. ‘People who go up against her drop like flies. But that’s not evidence.’ Subtle.”

“You know what my gut is telling me, Dehan?”

“It’s too early for lunch, Stone.”

I shook my head. “No, my gut is telling me that Lee is in bed with Hennessy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Literally or figuratively?”

“Certainly figuratively, possibly literally, too. But be that as it may, two gets you twenty that he is her boy. The question is, to what extent?”

She became serious. “Shit, that works. Dave tells Lee about his investigation. Lee tells Hennessy they have a problem. Hennessy tell him to solve the problem, and Lee goes ’round to Dave’s apartment, pops a cap in him with his own gun, and disposes of the article and the laptop. He certainly had enough knowledge of Dave’s habits to know where the gun would be. Plus Dave knew him well enough to let him in without having to force the lock.”

I nodded. “I think we need to look a little closer at Lee and Hennessy. Let’s dig a little deeper into their pasts, business activities, boards they sit on, directorships, clubs, favorite restaurants… the works. I want to find what connections there are between these two, going back ten or eleven years. They won’t be obvious, but there is something here, Dehan. I can smell it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to start with him. I’ll write his biography since 2007, what he’s done, where he’s been, who he’s screwed; see if any red flags pop up. Then I’ll do hers, and see how they cross reference.”

“Good. I’ll make a start on her. I’ll look at the activity of the Hennessy Foundation, too, look at their major projects and investments. We can compare notes and see if they overlap anywhere.”

She punched me gently on the shoulder and we made our way downstairs. There was a spring to her step. We paused in the lobby to look out at the day. They sky was clearing and a brisk, cold breeze was scattering the clouds. She grinned at me. “We done good, Sensei. You want a coffee and a donut?”

“You know I do.”

Fourteen

We worked in silence for the next couple of hours, drinking lots of quasi-coffee and eating too many donuts. Research of this sort is the slowest and most tedious form of investigation, because all you can do is read, make notes, and try to assimilate and remember what you have read, and where you have read it.

Dehan worked with close focus and an air

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