“Alternatively, they’re busy tracking Liang, and don’t want to spook him by telling us.”

“That’s not it.” She was having trouble even looking at Tarlo. “Something is just wrong. It was too neat.”

“Too neat?”

The tone of disbelief in his voice made her wince. “Yeah, I know, I know. But something bothers me. That loft apartment, those girls, it all shouted out,

‘Here are dumb rich kids, come and rip them off.’ ”

“I don’t get this. Who’s in the wrong here, the Guardians or the Halgarths?”

“Well…Okay, I don’t suppose it could have been the Halgarths, unless that really was an entrapment operation.”

He grinned at her. “You’re getting as bad as the boss when it comes to conspiracies. You’ll be blaming the Starflyer next.”

“Could do.” She gave him a weak smile. “But I’m still going to tell her I think something’s odd about this one.”

“Career suicide.”

“Come on! What kind of a detective are you? We’re supposed to act on intuitive hunches. Don’t you watch any cop soaps?”

“Unisphere shows are for people without lives. Me, I’m busy in the evenings.”

“Yeah,” she said snidely. “Still putting on your navy uniform when you go around the clubs?”

“I’m a naval officer. Why shouldn’t I?”

Renne laughed. “God! Does that really work?”

“It does if you can find girls like those three.”

She sighed.

“Listen,” he said. “I’m serious. What can you tell Myo? You had a feeling? She’ll just bawl you out big time. And don’t look to me to back you up. There was nothing wrong with it.”

“The boss appreciates the way we consider cases. You know she’s always saying we have to take a more holistic approach to crime.”

“Holistic, yeah, not psychic.”

They were still arguing about it forty minutes later when they arrived back at the Paris office. Five uniformed navy officers were standing in a group outside Paula Myo’s office.