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money. He didn’t ask for money, but perhaps if I’d given him a chance to—”
    “You said that the other man said something about getting the girl. That doesn’t sound like robbery.”
    “No. You’re right. I’m not thinking clearly.” She wearily pushed back her chair and stood up. “Maybe it was going to be a rape or a kidnapping, like Manning said. Who the hell knows?” She headed for the door. “I’m going back to my dorm and pack. I’ll see you in the morning. Call me if you need me.”
    “What I need is for you to remember the good things about your years with Mike.”
    “I’ll try.” She paused and then looked back over her shoulder. “Do you know what I remember most? It was when we were kids together and Mike had left home and was hiding out in an alley a few blocks from his house. His mother was a prostitute, and you know how bad it was for Mike whenever his father came home. I’d bring him food and at night I’d slip out of the house and go to keep him company. He was only six and he was scared at night. He got scared a lot. But it was better when I was there. I’d tell him stories and he’d—” Jesus, she was choking up again. “He’d go to sleep.” She opened the door. “And now he’s never going to wake up again.”
             
    Y ou can’t go, Trevor,” Venable said sharply. “You don’t even know that it was Grozak.”
    “It was Grozak.”
    “You can’t be sure of that.”
    “I’m not asking your permission, Venable. I told you what you had to do and gave you the courtesy of informing you that there’s a problem. If I decide it’s best, I’m gone.”
    “What you’re doing there is more essential. Why go off on the chance that Grozak was involved? Sometimes I think Sabot is right and Grozak isn’t going to be able to pull this off anyway. He’s vicious but definitely small potatoes.”
    “I told you that I believe Thomas Reilly may be involved. That changes the whole complexion of the situation.”
    “And you’re relying on pure deduction. There’s no proof. And she’s not important. You can’t risk endangering the—”
    “You do your job. I’ll decide what’s important.” He hung up.
    Christ, Venable could be difficult. Trevor would have preferred to just leave him in the dark about Jane. He couldn’t do that. In an operation this delicate, to have any player stumbling around in ignorance would be foolhardy, if not actually suicidal. Even if he hadn’t made a decision about whether to leave the work here at MacDuff’s Run, he had to have Venable cover his bases.
    He rose to his feet and moved down the hall to the studio Mario was using. Mario had already gone to the adjoining bedroom, and Trevor crossed the study to stand before the statue of Cira. The moonlight was pouring into the room and illuminating the features of the bust. He never got tired of looking at it. The high cheekbones, the winged brows that looked a little like Audrey Hepburn’s, the lovely curve and sensitivity of that mouth. A beautiful woman whose attraction lay more in the strength and personality of her spirit than in her features.
    Jane.
    He smiled as he thought how angry she would be to have him compare her to Cira. She’d been fighting it for too long. And it wasn’t really true. The resemblance was there, but since he’d met Jane he no longer saw Cira when he looked at the statue. It was Jane, alive, vibrant, intelligent, and very, very direct.
    His smile faded. And that directness could be her worst enemy right now. She only knew one way to go, and that was straight ahead, jumping over all obstacles. She wouldn’t be content to sit and wait for the police to find clues to Fitzgerald’s death.
    He touched the statue’s cheek and it felt smooth and cold beneath his finger. Right now he wished he still did think of the statue as Cira.
    Smooth and cold.
    Without life . . .
    His phone rang. Venable again?
    “Trevor, Thomas Reilly.”
    Trevor stiffened.
    “We