They stayed in the living room talking, and she engaged in some kissing and fondling with him, but had stopped short of further sexual intimacy. That was another reason to keep the witnesses separated. They were likely to be more straightforward with us out of each other's presence. Cara might blame herself for what happened thereafter-an unfortunate but typical reaction when some of the sexual contact was consensual. She might even be less candid in front of Jean.

"Did you socialize with him during the week?"

"No. In fact, he actually did spend the night before last with his girlfriend. We hardly ever saw him." She bit at the cuticle of one of her nails, until she noticed me watching her. Then she straightened up again and began to wind a strand of her long hair behind her left ear.

"And yesterday?"

"In the morning, after Cara and I made our plans, I beeped him at the hospital. When he called back, I told him that we were going sightseeing and planned to pick up some half-price tickets to a Broadway show, in Times Square. We invited him to join us, to thank him for letting us stay with him."

"Did he spend the evening with you?"

"No, he didn't seem the least bit interested in doing that."

"Did you and Cara go to the theater?"

"Yeah, we saw that new Andrew Lloyd Webber thing. Cara loves him. We got back to the apartment after eleven o'clock and Selim was waiting up for us. We bought him a gift, an expensive bottle of Kentucky bourbon," Jean said, smiling again, now braiding the length of hair as she talked. "It sounded very American."

"What did you do then?"

"He offered us a drink and we both said sure. We sat in the living room while Selim went into the kitchen and mixed the cocktails."

"Mixed them? What did he make for you?"

Again she shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know. I never drank bourbon before. I heard that loud kind of noise that a food blender makes, and he came out with something-I don't know-it looked very frothy when he brought it to us."