“The water pressure in the building is erratic,” I said.

“Maybe our friend here is not as lonely as he lets on. Why don’t you invite your guest out so we can have a little party?”

“Maybe you should mind your own damn business.”

“Getting testy, are we, Victor? Got something to hide? Embarrassed by your partner? Or maybe your visitor is somebody’s wife.”

“Maybe yours,” I said.

Sims laughed. His teeth were small and very white. “You want her number? You’d be doing me a favor. Just be sure to take some pictures for the judge. But you’d enjoy yourself, she’s a looker. Isn’t she a looker, Hanratty?”

“She’s a looker all right,” said Hanratty.

“She’s also a whore,” said Sims as he lifted a loose thread from his suit pants. “I think she even slept with Hanratty over there, imagine that.”

“No, thank you,” I said.

“But she is a looker. Oh, listen to us talk, like men blowing steam around the campfire after a day of fishing. You know how it is with us, when we get together by ourselves, we can’t stop complaining about women. Go ahead, Hanratty. Tell Victor who was the woman who broke your heart.”

“My mother,” said Hanratty.

Sims winced dramatically. “I think we’ve heard quite enough about that, don’t you? So now it’s your turn, Victor. Tell us about the girl who left you bare and broken at the altar.”

“I was engaged,” I said. “Her name was Julia. She ran off and married a urologist. End of story. Not much plot there, I’m afraid.”

“What was his name, this evil urologist, or am I being redundant?”

“Denniston. Wren Denniston.”

“And how did you feel about Dr. Wren Denniston? Bitter, angry, resentful, with a murderous thirst for vengeance?”

“I got over it.”

“Oh, I don’t think we ever get over something like that.”

“Is this an official inquiry of the Homicide Division?”