"It's looney's what's wrong with it," she laughed. "I mean, I knew you were a caped crusader, but…"

"Marlene," said Karp, his tone strict, "it's a serious investigation: A lot of new stuff has come up."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" She waited. After a silence and some uncharacteristic fumfering by Karp, she added confidently, "They didn't tell you, did they? They sold you a pig in a poke. And you bought it." She struck her forehead to indicate the extent of her amazement.

"I can't believe it! Especially you. Jesus, Butch! It's like some mutt said, 'Hey, let me walk on this one and I'll give you Mr. Big,' and you let him walk and then you called him up, hey, Mr. Mutt, how's about coming down and talking about Mr. Big?"

"Bert Crane isn't a mutt, for Chrissake, Marlene!"

"No, he's a lawyer," Marlene shot back. "I rest my case."

They glared at each other for an uncomfortable few seconds. Then Marlene rose and went to her closet, where she shed her working outfit and put on a T-shirt and Osh-Kosh overalls and flip-flops. Then she began putting together a meal. Karp drifted into the kitchen. Wordlessly she put on the butcher block in front of him a tin colander loaded with washed salad ingredients. Karp got a salad bowl and tore and cut the vegetables into bits. Marlene threw a mystery casserole into the oven.

They ate a silent meal. Marlene put the little espresso maker on the stove. They listened to it hiss. Then they both said "Look" simultaneously, which made them smile.

Karp said, "Your 'look' first."

"Okay, look… I'm sorry. I'm sure what's-his-name thinks it's a great honor to get picked for this job, and maybe you do too. I shouldn't have pissed all over it like I did. But… we got to work stuff out like this together, Butchie, like a team. We got to think it through together, the pros and cons, for all three of us, what's best-you know? That's all I'm saying."