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daughter, the one who is supposed to be in New York?”
    “Yes, yes, I came back early because I found my boyfriend in bed with another woman, if you can believe that. Now move, before I deck you.”
    The man smiled down at her, and even though it was the meanest excuse for a smile she’d ever seen, there was also a bit of humor in it.
    “Excuse me?”
    She shoved hard against his chest. “Move, dammit!”
    Margaret Califano raised her head. Her face was ravaged, eyes swollen, her mascara smeared around her eyes.
    “Callie? Please, Detective Raven, it’s my daughter. She’s not here to hurt me.”
    “Mama? What’s going on here? Why would anyone want to hurt you?”
    She watched her mother rise and weave a bit until she steadied herself. Her strong, self-assured mother looked fragile, terrifyingly fragile. She held out her hand, her mouth worked, but nothing came out. She sent a look toward the man, fanned her hands out in front of her, and fell back onto the sofa, her face in her hands.
    Detective Raven. Of course the man was a cop.
    He said, “I’m very sorry, Ms. Markham, but it’s your stepfather. He’s dead.”
    She slowly turned to face Detective Raven again. “That is ridiculous. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning, and here you are saying things like that? What kind of a sadistic creep are you?” She tried to shove him away, but he didn’t move.
    He said, “Look, Ms. Markham, I’m sorry I didn’t ease into it better, but I’m telling the truth. Someone murdered your stepfather last night. I’m very sorry.”
    Callie was shaking her head, back and forth, unable to accept what the words meant. “I want to talk to my mother. Go away, all of you. Mama? What happened? Was there an accident?”
    “No, Callie,” Margaret whispered, her breath only a whisper against Callie’s cheek when she held her tight, “no accident. What Detective Raven said is true. Stewart is dead. Someone murdered him in the Supreme Court library last night.”
    Callie still couldn’t accept what she was hearing. “A Supreme Court Justice doesn’t get killed in the library, for God’s sake. It can’t happen. All of you must be wrong about this.”
    “I’ll agree it’s a shock, Ms. Markham,” Detective Raven said, “but we’re not wrong.”
    She shook her head as she said, “All right, all right, who killed him? How? Why? I know that he enjoyed visiting the Supreme Court Building after hours, that he liked the solitude and the privacy, but what was he doing there last night, for heaven’s sake?”
    Detective Raven said, “We don’t know much of anything yet. An FBI forensic team is at the Supreme Court Building, along with about six of our guys and a gazillion or so Feds. Judge Califano was garroted. We don’t know who did this as yet, but we will find out, Ms. Markham.
    “The media will have found out about this by now, even though we laid down a temporary blackout until we got security under control and reached your mother. The media have as many grubs as we do. I expect both the print media and TV reporters to roll up here any moment. I’m to get the two of you down to the Daly Building before the vultures light and start coming down the chimney.”
    “I can handle the media. I don’t think my mother is up for going anywhere.”
    “Ms. Markham, it would be better than being barricaded in here with the media pounding on the windows, using bullhorns to ask you how you feel.”
    But Callie, now stroking her weeping mother’s back, said to him, barely above a whisper, “He’s dead? Stewart is really dead?”
    “Yes. I’m sorry.”
    She stared over at him, through him really, he thought, trying to make sense of the situation. She said, “No, don’t say anything more. All right, tell me this. Where were the guards? There are a zillion guards in that building. They’re sharp, they’re smart, and my stepfather knew most of them. They wouldn’t hesitate an instant if someone dangerous broke in. They’d