"I don't know. Maybe the crook steals something valuable, says, 'If you don't testify the way I want, you'll never get it back.' "

"Of course he said nothing was stolen."

"What, you think he's gonna come out and say someone ripped him off for half a pound of heroin?"

"You think he's a drug pusher?"

"I don't know what I think. But I'm not about to give the guy a free pa.s.s. When I saw him take the stand, a little bird said, Why?"

"I don't suppose a subpoena had anything to do with it."

"Yeah, very funny. The point is, who knew to subpoena him? Did he come to Melvin, or did Melvin come to him?"

"I imagine it was Melvin's attorney who-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Cora waved it away. "It's too pat, and I don't like it."

"What about the KenKen?"

"What about it?"

"You solved it. So tell me. What devastating revelation in the solution could lead an honest, upstanding bank manager to feel compelled to go to court and testify against a persecuted puzzle constructor?"

"My G.o.d, you're getting good with words, Chief. Maybe you should write my column."

"I'm serious. How is any of this the bank manager's fault?"

"I don't know, because I don't know all the facts. I just know Melvin's involved, so nothing can be taken at face value. He's a born liar, he's been practicing all his life, and he just gets better and better. If you want proof, take a look at his current wife."

"Current wife?"

"Yeah. He's tooling around town with her. At least he was. He probably dropped her off at day care."

"She has kids?"

"No."

Harper sighed. "Okay. I understand. The guy's trying to cut off your money and he's pushing his young wife in your face. This is why you have a lawyer. Because the lawyer isn't emotionally involved, and can think rationally. Except when your lawyer's as pushy as Becky Baldwin, she's apt to exceed her boundaries and try to tell me my job. But even so, she's got a firmer grip on the situation. When the bank manager testifies against you, she doesn't take it personally. She tries to see how much it damages your case, and what practical thing she can do about it. Which does not include beating the guy to a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp."

"I got it, I got it. You don't have to spell it out in words of one syllable. You're not talking to a two-year-old."

Harper grimaced, put up his hand. "Once again, in affairs of the heart-"

"This is not an affair of the heart! I hate the son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

Harper waited until the sound waves had finished reverberating through his office.

"Yeah, right."

CHAPTER.

16.

Cora confronted Becky Baldwin in her law office. "You went behind my back to the police?"

Becky frowned. "I don't know about anybody's back. I spoke to Chief Harper."

"About Melvin's rap sheet."

"That's right."

"You didn't think to run it by me first?"

"You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I'd just like to know what you're doing."

"I'm trying to win a court case. By any means possible. If you're quoting me to the media, by any legal means possible."

"Come on, Becky, can't you beat this case on the merits? Why do you have to drag Melvin's record into it?"

"He has a record?"

"I have no idea if he has a record. But a man of his many talents would have to be very lucky not to."

"If he has a history of scamming women out of money, that would certainly be relevant."

"He has a history of scamming everybody out of everything."

"Well, I didn't get his rap sheet. But a check of vital statistics was rather interesting."

"Why, is he dead?"

"You'd be surprised how many times he's been married."

"I probably wouldn't."

"Eight. Four times since you. Most recently to a Miss Evelyn Anne Miller, an actress-slash-c.o.c.ktail waitress considerably his junior."

"That would be Bambi. I met her."

"Oh?"

"He brought her to town. Just to throw in my face. In case his legal maneuvers weren't p.i.s.sing me off enough. He was hoping a hot trophy wife might make me blow a gasket."

"Is it?"

"You haven't seen her. Jesus, Becky, she makes you look like Grandma Moses."

Becky pointed her finger. "Hey, watch it, or I'll charge you what I'm actually worth."

"In the meantime, I don't suppose you found out anything about that bank manager."

"What about him?"

"He seemed awfully eager to sell me down the river."

"Maybe."

"Chief Harper thinks it's funny. So do I. I was out at the guy's house just last week. Investigating an alleged burglary. In which nothing was taken, but a KenKen puzzle was left."

"What's a KenKen puzzle?"

"Oh, not again."

Cora went through the whole explanation about solving KenKen.

"What could it possibly mean?" Becky asked.

"I have no idea."

"Did you solve it?"

"Of course I solved it. It's a piece of cake."

"Let me see it."

Cora reached in her drawstring purse, found the KenKen.

Becky looked it over, said, "Hmmm."

"Hmmm? What do you mean, hmmm?"

"Well, one thing jumps out at you."

"What would that be?"

Becky pointed. "Look at the first line."

"What about it?"

"It's 1, 2, 4, 3."

"So? It's gotta be the numbers 1 through 4 in some order or another. There aren't that many possibilities."

"It's just interesting that it's that one."

"Why?"

"You didn't notice?" Becky smiled. "It's the amount of your alimony payment."

CHAPTER.

17.

Roger Randolph pulled into his driveway, stopped the car, and got out. He popped the trunk, took out the bag of groceries, and the case of light beer he'd picked up at the Stop & Shop, and went up the walk. Balancing the groceries and the beer with one arm, he fumbled with his keys and opened the front door. He went in, kicked the door shut behind him, shifted the weight of his burden, walked into the living room, and stopped dead.

Cora Felton was sitting on the couch. She was reading a mystery novel. She looked up when he came in. "About time you got home. I was beginning to worry."

"What are you doing in my house?"

"Reading a Joan Hess book." Cora held it up. "Quite funny, actually. You'd like it."

"How did you get in here?"

"Excellent question." Cora nodded in agreement with herself. "See, that's the question you should have been asking last Thursday. When the place was robbed and nothing was taken. How the h.e.l.l did the robber get in? I guess you can't call him a robber if nothing was taken. And you can't call him a him or you'll get in trouble with the PC police. After all, the robber who wasn't a robber could well be a her. Like me, for instance."

"You broke into my house?"

"Not last Thursday. Last Thursday I came with Chief Harper. And, no, I wasn't coming back to the scene of the crime. That was the first time I'd ever been in your house. And this is not returning to the scene of the crime, either. Well, actually, it is, but not in the sense you mean it. Because I didn't commit the crime. You wanna put your beer down? It looks heavy."

Randolph set the beer and groceries on the floor, popped back up. "How dare you break into my house."

Cora pursed her lips. "Gee, I don't know. More chutzpah than the average bear? That's possible. Frustrated by the day in court? Another good one. Freaked out by meeting my accuser before my day in court? Before I was even summoned, for goodness sake? That's got to be pretty close to a winner."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Cora shook her head. "Oh, no, no, no. How can you not know what I'm talking about? I was in your house, examining your quote robbery unquote, the one where nothing was taken and something was left. Now, surely you remember that."

"I'm going to call the police."

"Good. Ask for Dan Finley. He's waiting for my call."

"What?"

"You didn't think I'd come here without backup, did you? Well, actually, I would. I was bluffing about Dan Finley. But I've got a gun in my purse." Cora put up her hand. "Not to worry. I haven't shot anyone in ages. The point is I'm here, and I'd like to know what's going on."