"Then what? Where was my name?"

"Personal effects."

"What are you talking about?"

Milo didn't answer.

"You come barging in but won't tell me?"

"At this point, we need to be discreet, Ms. Suss. What about Steven Muhrmann?"

"Who?"

"You don't know Steven Muhrmann?"

She chuckled. "You guys are wasting your time, this must be a computer mixup."

"How about Stefan Moore?"

"How about not," said Connie Suss. "That sounds like a movie monster, one of those j.a.panese films."

"Stefan?"

"Merman. Merman Invades Tokyo." She laughed.

Milo didn't.

"Sorry, I'm sure you're doing your job," she said, "but you have to admit it's weird coming in here while I'm trying to have my dunch-that's a made-up word I use for dinner and lunch. I get GERD-reflux disease. So I like to eat early. Like a senior citizen."

She eyed the ghost of the stain on Milo's jacket. "You come in and throw names at me, that's pretty darn weird."

She reached for her magazine.

Milo said, "Markham Suss."

Her hand withdrew. "My father-in-law? What does he he have to do with this?" have to do with this?"

"Tiara Grundy knew him. Well."

"Mark pa.s.sed away a while back."

"You don't seem surprised by the relationship."

"Of course I'm surprised."

"Honestly, you didn't seem surprised, ma'am."

She exhaled. "Okay, you're obviously talking about one of Mark's s.l.u.ts, but that has nothing to do with me. What, she got herself killed and she had my business card or something? Maybe Mark recommended my gallery to her. Though I can't recall his ever having an interest in the gallery. Or bringing any of them in-I used to own a gla.s.s gallery not far from here but I closed it down because we got a terrific offer on the building and frankly I was tired of working."

"One of his s.l.u.ts," said Milo. "So there were a lot of them."

"s.l.u.ts were pretty much a fixture in Mark's life, it's no big secret, Officer-is it Detective?"

"Lieutenant."

"Excuse me. Lieutenant. Once my husband and I got serious, before he took me to meet his parents, he warned me to expect some strange things."

"Such as?"

"A little more...freedom of expression than some folk."

"Extreme tolerance?"

"Mark might've called it that," she said, "but to me it was extreme ostrich-in-the-sand-ness. The unspoken truth, you know?"

"Denial."

"Denial implies pretending. Mark made no pretense-I'm sorry, I feel disloyal talking about this. Now could you please let me dunch in peace?"

I said, "Everyone was aware of Mark's behavior but no one acknowledged it."

"If Lee-my mother-in-law-could live with it, what was it my business?" She frowned. "Not that any of this is your business, Mark's been gone for nearly a year so he obviously had nothing to do with anything happening to this Tiara person."

Milo said, "And you've never heard of Steve or Stefan Muhrmann."

"Asking me again won't change the facts, Lieutenant."

"Hmm."

"Hmm what?"

"Your name was a.s.sociated with Muhrmann a little more directly."

Connie Longellos-Suss's blue eyes bugged. "What are you talking talking about?" about?"

The chef in the corner looked up from her paper.

Milo said, "Ma'am, I'm terribly sorry to upset you but a terrible crime's taken place and when evidence surfaces I'm obligated to follow up."

"I don't know any Merman. Or G.o.dzilla or Rodan. This is unreal."

"You're not curious about how your name came up with his?"

"No, because it's ridiculous." Sagging. "Oh, no, you're kidding."

"What?"

"Could this be another ident.i.ty theft thing?"

"You've had identify theft problems?"

"A few years ago someone ran up bills on one of my credit cards. Idiots, they used a platinum card to buy fast food and computer games. I closed the account and there've been no problems since. But once stuff hits the Internet-are you saying this Merman is pretending to be me?"

"Steven Muhrmann used you as a reference to rent a house. And someone using your name actually sent a letter."

"That's psychotic psychotic."

"The house is on Russell Avenue, in Los Feliz," said Milo.

"You might as well be talking Greek. At least that I'd understand, my father was Greek."

Milo paged through his pad, read off the P.O.B. in Pacific Palisades.

She said, "I've never owned a post office box in my life."

"Ma'am, I have to ask you a somewhat...difficult question, so please don't take offense. Have you ever been in rehab?"

She stared at him. Burst into laughter. "In rehab? What on earth for?"

"You do have a DUI."

"That? Oh, man, you guys are like...that was totally stupid."

"Stupid, how?"

"Don't your police files give you details?" she said. "About what actually happens at arrests?"

"The file lists you with a DUI conviction."

"Then let me give you the facts: It was one of those New Year's Eve things. When you you people do those random stops. The irony is my husband and I weren't even partying, we decided to stay home, enjoy some peace and quiet." Laughing softly. "We drank some wine. Riesling. I had two gla.s.ses and then I needed some...I got my..." people do those random stops. The irony is my husband and I weren't even partying, we decided to stay home, enjoy some peace and quiet." Laughing softly. "We drank some wine. Riesling. I had two gla.s.ses and then I needed some...I got my..."

Peach-colored blush seeped into the corners of her tan face. "What the heck, you've already ruined my meal. I needed a feminine feminine product and I'd run out, okay? Normally it's Phil-my husband-who does nighttime runs to the pharmacy or the 7-Eleven or whatever, but that kind of thing makes him squeamish so I went. And got pulled over randomly about a half a minute later. And"-she sighed-"failed a stupid Breathalyzer. But like at one-tenth of a percent, the whole thing was ridiculous. I tried to explain to those morons-and yes, you people acted like morons-that I'd just gone out to get some darn tampons, all I'd had were two gla.s.ses of Riesling. They looked at me like I was a criminal, said I'd product and I'd run out, okay? Normally it's Phil-my husband-who does nighttime runs to the pharmacy or the 7-Eleven or whatever, but that kind of thing makes him squeamish so I went. And got pulled over randomly about a half a minute later. And"-she sighed-"failed a stupid Breathalyzer. But like at one-tenth of a percent, the whole thing was ridiculous. I tried to explain to those morons-and yes, you people acted like morons-that I'd just gone out to get some darn tampons, all I'd had were two gla.s.ses of Riesling. They looked at me like I was a criminal, said I'd blown blown .09, which was more than the legal limit of .08. Then they arrested me. I went hysterical. So how did you geniuses handle that? Cuffed me and shoved me in the back of a police car. At that point, I totally lost it, started screaming, begged them to let me call Phil. They ignored me. The stress got me bleeding heavily and my hands were cuffed so I couldn't do anything about it." .09, which was more than the legal limit of .08. Then they arrested me. I went hysterical. So how did you geniuses handle that? Cuffed me and shoved me in the back of a police car. At that point, I totally lost it, started screaming, begged them to let me call Phil. They ignored me. The stress got me bleeding heavily and my hands were cuffed so I couldn't do anything about it."

Her eyes pooled with tears. "Just remembering it is utterly humiliating, but what the heck, you want details, I'll give you details details. I bled all over their stupid car and when they saw it they freaked out, thought I'd cut myself. If they'd taken the time to listen, all they needed to do was hand me a darn tampon, but no, that was too logical. Instead they called in the paramedics, who showed up and checked me out and ended giving me a stupid tampon tampon. By that time, I'd been gone from the house for over an hour and Phil was worried. He got in his car, drove toward the drugstore, saw my car, pulled over. Guess what they did?"

Milo said, "Gave him a Breathalyzer."

"Bingo," said Connie Suss. "Random, my b.u.t.t. There must be some manual you people have about hara.s.sing honest, taxpaying citizens. Luckily, Phil pa.s.sed. Even though he had three three gla.s.ses of Riesling. He weighs a lot more than I do and I guess the time lapse helped. In the end, Phil convinced them not to take me to jail but I got a ticket and had to do community service. I ended up giving cla.s.ses in art appreciation to some inner-city kids. You guys promised me my record would be wiped clean. What, you lied? Figures." gla.s.ses of Riesling. He weighs a lot more than I do and I guess the time lapse helped. In the end, Phil convinced them not to take me to jail but I got a ticket and had to do community service. I ended up giving cla.s.ses in art appreciation to some inner-city kids. You guys promised me my record would be wiped clean. What, you lied? Figures."

She picked up her fork, plucked a tine, and set off a tiny musical tone. "Now I've told you about the most humiliating experience of my life. Now you can leave."

Milo said, "Sorry you had to go through that."

"Don't apologize, just give me some peace and quiet."

Milo hung his head.

Connie Suss said, "What are you you so sullen about?" so sullen about?"

"The questions I have to keep asking."

"Good Lord, now now what?" what?"

"Your name came up as a patient at a rehab program. Where Steve Muhrmann was also in treatment."

Her hands gripped the table. "This is psy-cho-tic psy-cho-tic. Where is this supposed place?"

"Pasadena. Awakenings."

"The only thing that takes me to Pasadena is the Rose Bowl, and the last time we attended the game was four years ago. This has has to be an ident.i.ty theft thing." Her brow furrowed, then smoothed. "Maybe it's one of those Medi-Cal frauds, where they bill for services that never take place? I will swear on a stack of Bibles that I have never ever been in any kind of rehab, nor do I have a drinking problem, nor do I know any of my father-in-law's s.l.u.ts by name, nor have I rented a post office box." Pausing for breath. "The same goes for any relationship with a Mer-Man." Giggling. Shrill. She turned a hand into a swooping jet plane. "Watch out, Tokyo." to be an ident.i.ty theft thing." Her brow furrowed, then smoothed. "Maybe it's one of those Medi-Cal frauds, where they bill for services that never take place? I will swear on a stack of Bibles that I have never ever been in any kind of rehab, nor do I have a drinking problem, nor do I know any of my father-in-law's s.l.u.ts by name, nor have I rented a post office box." Pausing for breath. "The same goes for any relationship with a Mer-Man." Giggling. Shrill. She turned a hand into a swooping jet plane. "Watch out, Tokyo."

The chef peered our way.

"Hilarious," said Connie Suss.

Milo said, "Tiara Grundy's face was on the news."

"I never watch the news, too depressing." She patted Milo's cuff. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

"For-"

"Totally eradicating my appet.i.te, I've been trying to take off a few pounds, you made it easy."

Sliding bills from an alligator purse, she walked over to the chef. "It was delicious, Francoise, but I'm going to take this home."

"Certainly, Connie."

Francoise took the plate into the kitchen. As Connie Suss waited, she kept her back to us.

Milo said, "Thanks for your time, ma'am."

No answer.

As we left, she said, "You should should thank me. It's people like me who finance this comedy routine you pretend is a job." thank me. It's people like me who finance this comedy routine you pretend is a job."

*series of calls to Valley Traffic confirmed the details of Connie Suss's DUI.

"I hate when they're credible," said Milo. "You feel anything deceptive about her?"

"Anyone can be fooled," I said, "but she seemed real."

"So scratch one family member. Along with the whole d.a.m.n case I've been building. Maybe she's right and it'll come down to a scam-and that psychiatrist Manlow was in on it. She also seemed straight, but like you said."