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not to touch anything, quizzed the super about any information he had about Marina and her habits and friends. His lack of knowledge turned out to be total.
    The apartment was in pristine order—dishes done, clothes hung up, the two bathrooms clean. It could have been the digs of any moderately successful New York career woman, except, perhaps, for the signed prints on the wall—a Jasper Johns, a Howard Hodgkin, and a James Siena among them.
    A silver tray of liquor bottles, in varying degrees of emptiness, was on a breakfront in the dining room. So was the only unclean object visible—an ashtray with three cigarette butts, each with a lipstick smudge on the filter tip. Reuben noticed it and reached the easy conclusion that Marina was not averse to either drink or tobacco.
    Daniel noticed the bottles and ashtray, too, and looked surprised. “Never saw them here before.”
    Reuben stayed quiet, guessing that Marina had hidden any offending bottles and any evidence of smoking when her father had come to visit.
    â€œMarina was always the neat one in the family,” Daniel mumbled to Reuben as they wandered around, trying to keep out of the policemen’s way.
    In what Daniel called the library, they spotted a laptop up and running on a table next to a desk. Daniel leaned over and was about to use it when Reuben restrained him. “No touching, remember.”
    A detective came in at that point, surveyed the computer, turned it off, unplugged the DSL connection, and prepared to remove the machine. They watched as he opened the adjoining desk and tagged and bagged an address book and an engagement calendar. They also saw him pick up—wearing rubber gloves—a paperbound volume marked UNCORRECTED GALLEYS . They could see the title, Carry Me Back , and the name of the author, Michael Oakley. As the officer flipped through the pages, they also caught sight of several pages underlined with a bright yellow marker.
    â€œYou’ve been here many times?” Luis asked Daniel as they met in the living room.
    â€œNot many. Half a dozen, maybe.”
    â€œDo you see anything different, strange, or out of order?”
    â€œNo. But I can’t say I’m thinking very clearly just at the moment.” He did not mention the liquor bottles or the ashtray.
    â€œI understand. Maybe you should leave. We’ve got some more routine stuff to do, like dusting for fingerprints, but there’s no reason for you to stay around for that.”
    â€œI think I’ll follow your advice.”
    â€œI also want to talk to the doormen, both day and night, to see what they have to say,” Luis added.
    Reuben and Daniel left.
    â€œI’m going back to the hotel,” Daniel said as they went down in the elevator.
    â€œDo you want some company, Dan?”
    â€œNo. I’ll be all right. I’m going to stay here until Marina’s killer is found.”
    â€œThat may not be today or tomorrow.”
    â€œI don’t care. I can afford the hotel bill. I’ll call you when I’ve absorbed today’s news a little better. Just one question before I go: I know you have no idea who murdered my daughter, but why on earth was she using an assumed name?”
    â€œIf I knew the answer to that, I might know who killed her.”

Five
    Eskill Lander
    Frost headed directly to his office after leaving the Ladbroke. Given the connection to the wealthy and controversial Dan Courtland, he was sure word of Marina’s murder would be spread on the Internet and splashed across the remaining local newspapers; he must warn Eskill Lander, Courtland’s personal attorney, of the threatening storm.
    Lander, head of the Chase & Ward trust and estates department, tall and straight-backed, looked as if he had rowed with the Yale crew perhaps five years ago rather than the twenty-five it had actually been. He simply did not appear to be forty-seven with his angelic Nordic, not-quite-handsome