“Nice place,” said the one who had shown me his badge.

“No it’s not,” I said.

He stopped and looked hard at me. He was slim and sharp-faced, with clever eyes. “You’re right. I was just being polite. But the furniture’s not bad. My wife’s looking for some new pieces. Is that couch leather?”

“Pleather,” I said.

“Well, you certainly can’t tell unless you look. You mind if I sit?”

I shrugged.

“I’m Detective Sims,” he said as he carefully lowered himself onto the couch and lifted one leg over the other. Sims’s suit was freshly pressed, his shoes were shiny and thin-soled. “This is my partner, Hanratty.”

“A pleasure,” I said.

Hanratty grunted.

“He’s big, isn’t he?” I said to Sims.

“But a surprisingly nimble dancer for his size,” said Sims. “You alone?”

“Not anymore.”

“Why is your water running?”

“I was about to shower when you guys knocked.”

“We’ll wait while you turn it off.”

“It’s all right. You won’t be staying long.”

“I don’t know,” said Sims. “Hanratty might want some tea.”

“Do you want some tea, Hanratty?” I said.

Hanratty stood like a block of cement and glowered. He was the size of a linebacker, with thick knuckles and a closely mowed patch of blond hair. The bridge of his nose was crushed like a beer can. I tried to imagine him dancing nimbly and failed. But he sure could glower. I got the feeling if he smiled, his face would shatter.

“Where were you tonight, smart guy?” said Hanratty. Each syllable was like a punch to the kidneys.

“Home,” I said. “I don’t get out much.”

“Spend your nights on your pleather couch, do you?” said Sims. “Eating cheesesteaks, watching that big television set you got there. That’s a lonely kind of existence for a man your age.”

“Not as lonely as you would think. Every once in a while a couple of cops stop by and chat amiably about my taste in furniture. What division within the department did you boys say you were in?”