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remains a possibility.”

“Gosh,” he said. “I see. Do I need a lawyer, then?”

Dehan smiled like she was going to reassure him, but said, “I don’t know, do you?”

He sat up straight, half laughing. “Well, you’re making me nervous! Of course not. We all loved Sue, some of us more than others, but we all loved her. You know what I think? I think she was so drunk she left the door open, and some passing punk saw it, went in and killed the poor child. She was so gorgeous!”

I saw Dehan’s eyes narrow and she drew breath. I knew what she was going to ask him, but I cut across her. “You may well be right, Mr. Martinez.” I looked at Dehan and told her with my face not to pursue it. “Tell me, how long have you and Giorgio been friends?”

“Oh, my God! Since we were kids. We grew up on the same street in Chihuahua. Even our fathers were friends. You know what I’m saying? We came to U.S.A. together, we did everything together. We go back a long way. I criticize him? I call him names? But we are real tight, and there for each other, come what may.”

I watched him closely a moment and realized he was older than I had thought. I smiled. “Like brothers, huh? Stick by each other through thick and thin. That’s nice. More people should be like that.”

He seemed uncertain, but pleased, and said, “I know, right?”

I stood. “Mr. Martinez, thank you very much for your help and cooperation. I am sorry to have taken up your time. I hope you have a very pleasant evening with your date.”

“Thank you, Detective.” He stood too, and so did Dehan. “I wish all NYPD officers were as courteous as you two. You have a lovely evening too, y’hear!”

He let us out and as Dehan followed me down the stairs, I heard the door close behind us. We stepped out into the dark, freezing street and walked to the car. That was when Dehan said, “You want to tell me what that was all about, partner?”

I nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t want to go there yet. He clearly doesn’t know a witness saw him with Sue at her door. Let’s keep it that way for now. I need a few hours to get a handle on this. There is something very, very wrong here.”

She looked at me curiously. “What do you mean?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. Moussaka, Dehan. Moussaka and wine. And let me think.”

I threw her the keys and climbed in the passenger seat. The doors slammed, the engine growled and we pulled out into the slow stream of traffic on Soundview Avenue. The wipers set up a slow, steady squeak and thud, pushing the melting flakes of sleet from the windshield. I leaned against the door with my head on the cold window and watched the people hurrying through the frosted, pre-Christmas light. After a while, Dehan frowned at me.

“Was it my imagination, or is Fernando gay?”

I grunted. “I don’t know if he’s gay, but it wasn’t your imagination.”

“Huh?”

I laughed a small laugh. “He is a little camp, affected, but he might still like, or even prefer, women.”

She nodded and made a face. “OK…”

“Sex is complicated…”

I said it half to myself, but she turned and smiled a smile that was full of promise and warmth and said, “No it’s not.”

“Keep your eyes on the road, you wonton hussy.” I rubbed my face with the palms of my hands. “We have every reason to believe she knew her killer. We will confirm that tomorrow, but as a working hypothesis which we can be pretty sure of, we can say for now that we have every reason to believe that she knew her killer. A, because there was no sign of a forced entry, and B, because we have a witness whom we shall speak to tomorrow, who saw a man climb the steps, knock on the door and go in. That makes it very unlikely it was a passer by. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“So, for now at least, this narrows our pool to Giorgio, Fernando and Cyril, none of whom is completely convincing. You like both Giorgio and Fernando…”

“And,” she interrupted me, “you didn’t let me press him on it, but note that Fernando lied about going home. He said they parted company when they left the party, but he went home with her and we don’t know if he went inside. Like you say, we will talk to the witness tomorrow, but that second man who went in could have been Fernando or Giorgio. Agreed?”

I was quiet for a bit, then nodded. “Agreed.”

“And if he is gay, or part gay or whatever, the three of them could have had some weird sex thing going on, some kind of Sharon Tate shit.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Dehan, I don’t know how to even begin to answer that.”

“You know I’m right.”

“As I was saying, you like Giorgio and Fernando for the murder.”

“And/or.”

“Giorgio and/or Fernando for the murder. My gut is telling me we need to look into Cyril, for several reasons.”

“Like?”

“Wait. Let me finish. But we also need to look into Sue’s past. Our pool of suspects may not be as small as we think. The killer could be somebody from her past.”

She looked at me and grunted. “Who just happened to turn up on Halloween?”

I shrugged with my eyebrows. “Halloween may have some special significance. There may be no ‘just happened’ about it.”

She grunted again. “What’s really troubling you?”

“Cyril.” We turned into Morris Park Avenue. The shops and restaurants cast amber light onto sidewalks that were turning slowly white, where the few people who were forced to brave the cold, hurried toward safe, warm homes.

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