"You're getting to be a real jog, y'know? One of these days you're gonna cut that too close!"

Looked out the rear window. The tyrannosaurus followed all the way to the house and watched us with its hard black eyes until we sank out of its line of sight onto the roof. From there we walked down a short stairway and into the presence of Yokomata herself, seated behind a desk.

She studied us with dark eyes no warmer than her pet carnivore’s. Big woman with a wide yellow face. Looked like a retired sumo wrestler who'd been on a soy-water diet for a while.

"I don't want to take up any more time with this than is necessary," she said in a silky, world-weary voice as she held up two printouts. "I know who you both are: Jean Harlow-c, a Dydeetown girl; and Sigmund Dreyer, a small time-very small time — investigator." She fixed on me. "I want to know what you were doing in Kel Barkham's apartment."

"'Kel Barkham?" the clone said. "That's Kyle Bodine's apartment."

Yokomata glanced at Fourfingers who nodded. "He rented it under that name a few months ago."

Yokomata kept her eyes on Fourfingers. "Ask her why she was in his apartment."

"Looking for him," the clone said before Fourfingers could open his mouth. "He was supposed to meet me Friday night but he never showed up."

"So she hired Dreyer here to find him?" Yokomata said to Fourfingers. "Is she that interested in all her customers?"

"Of course not," the clone replied in a huff, and I knew she was going to say it, but there was no way to stop her. "We're going to be married."

Utter silence in the room for a second or two. Then Rednose cracked — made a choking sound, then burst out laughing. Fourfingers and the driver followed. The clone reddened and set her jaw.

Only Yokomata remained impassive.

Which worried me most of all. Yokomata was interrogating us herself. That meant the whereabouts of Kyle Bodine/Kel Barkham were so important to her that she didn't trust any of her underlings with the job.