"Fascinating." He didn't sounded fascinated.

"Where's your weapon? I thought all you private investigators carried guns. You looked half-naked without one on Saturday."

"I left it in my car." He'd started to piss me off. And the whine at the edge of my hearing didn't help. I wanted to straighten my back so that I could tower over him, but my ribs rejected the idea. The dead parts of my chest refused to flex.

"So by pure chance," Moy went on, "you and Mr. Sternway were out together when you spotted the alleged killer of a hotel security guard.

Compounding the coincidence, he's a man Mr. Sternway has seen fight before, a man he knows well enough to identify by name, but didn't see at the tournament. And now he's dead.

"Do I have it right so far?"

He didn't expect an answer. Without conviction, he added, "Give me one more providential fluke, and I'm a happy man. I can hardly wait to find out what law-abiding citizens like yourselves do when you're out together. If I hear you were trolling for suspects, I'll expire with bliss."

His sarcasm laid too many of my nerves bare.

"So far," I put in harshly.

"Almost. The 'alleged' part is right, anyway."

Then I waited for him to pay some actual attention.

"Go on," he prompted in curiously

"That" I pointed a rigid finger at Hardshorn's body "is the drop I spotted working the tournament. I don't make that kind of mistake,"

although God knows I'd already made a shitload of others.

"But he didn't kill Bernie."

"Bernie'?" Moy seemed momentarily amused.

"Are you referring to Bernard Appelwait, The Luxury security guard? I didn't get the impression you knew him that well."

I couldn't match his tone, but I managed to let some of the drill bit into my voice.

"I like to be on a first-name basis with people who end up dead because I didn't do my job well enough. I knew Hardshorn was dangerous as soon as I saw him. And Bernie was an old man. He shouldn't have gone after Hardshorn alone and he sure as hell should not have gone into that restroom alone. If I'd been faster," or clearer, or maybe just smarter, "he wouldn't have."

Moy shrugged.

"And now you're taking it personally." My appetite for chagrin didn't pique him.

"You've already made that obvious." A reference to Marshal's phone calls.

"But you haven't quite mentioned what you and Mr. Sternway were doing here in the first place. And you still haven't told me why you think this limp sucker didn't kill Mr. Appelwait," His tone smiled.

"Unless I've missed something."

Gritting my teeth, I dragged myself a bit more upright. The deadness in my chest resisted every movement, and at least half a dozen ribs squalled objections. Maybe some of them were broken I couldn't tell yet.

"I left something out on Saturday." The drill bit whined hotter.

"The murder weapon. The missing flik." If Moy hadn't recognized the marks on the stall, or the slash across Bernie's throat, he deserved a demotion.

"It was Bernie's."

At least now I had Moy's attention.

"Wisman asked me not to tell you. The Luxury doesn't allow weapons, but Bernie wasn't the only guard carrying one anyway. Wisman thought there would be trouble with the hotel.

"At the time, I didn't see any harm in it. Now " I lifted my shoulders painfully.

"Now I've had a chance to think."

"Fascinating," Moy remarked again. He sounded like he wanted to add, All this and Heaven, too. Take me now, O Lord. But I didn't give him a chance.

"I asked myself what kind of petty thief kills a security guard with his own weapon and then takes it. I couldn't come up with an answer.

"And there was someone missing. The spot. Any good team has a spot.

Someone to watch for trouble. Someone who warned Hardshorn to get out of the hall.

"So I asked myself, what if Hardshorn wasn't alone in the rest-room?

What if his spot was there, too, when Bernie came in?" Maybe they'd met to hand off the evidence, make it harder to track.

"Then it almost makes sense. The spot knew I'd identified Hardshorn, but the only threat he faced himself was Bernie.

"Which wasn't necessarily a big deal," a danger worth killing to avoid.

"They didn't have to slaughter him. As long as they got away, it didn't much matter if they left him alive. You weren't likely to catch them."

If the cops any cops were good at catching that kind of crook, the whole world would be a different place.

I couldn't see Sternway's face, but his shape in the shadows conveyed concentration, intensity, as if he took all this more seriously than Moy did.

"Unless ?" Moy offered helpfully.

I tried to pull a deep breath past my ribs. They didn't approve.

"Unless," I sighed thinly, "the spot was someone Bernie knew. Someone who wouldn't have a prayer if Bernie identified him. Someone who couldn't hide from it, or bluff it out, or confuse the issue. Then it makes sense. Even taking the flik makes sense" well, almost "because it confuses what happened."

Moy waited for me to go on, but I was finished. Probably I wouldn't be able to stay on my feet much longer. The whine in my ears had finally started to recede, but some of the dead patches on my chest continued oozing larger. If they spread much farther, I wouldn't be able to breathe.

After a moment the detective nodded.

"All right, Axbrewder. That's withholding information and obstructing a police investigation. Do you have any other secrets you'd like to come clean about before I go into my Outraged Officer of the Law dog-and-pony show?"

Judging by his tone, he wasn't pissed off. I would've taken that as good news, if I'd had the energy.

Briefly I considered telling him that I'd been to Bernie's apartment.

But then I decided it was none of his damn business. It was between me and Alyse.