“I heard you had a Palma Copperfield up in the crib.”

“Yeah, witness. Sister was strangled early this morning.”

“Ah, shit.” He scooped a hand back through his hair. “I was hoping I got it wrong.”

“You know them?”

“ Palma, a little. Not the vic. Met Palma a few months back – friend of a friend of a friend – at a party. We went out a couple times.”

“She’s twenty-three.”

He scowled. “I’m not filing for frigging retirement any time soon. Anyway, it was nothing major. Nice woman. A real nice woman. Was she hurt?”

“No. Found her sister dead in the sister’s apartment.”

“Rough. Damn it. They were tight, I think. Palma said how she stayed with her sister when she came to New York. I dropped her off at the building – Jane Street – after we had dinner once.”

“You still involved?”

“No – we weren’t. Went out a couple of times, that’s all.” As if he didn’t know quite what to do with them, Baxter slid his hands into his pockets. “Listen, if a familiar face would help, I can talk to her.”

“Maybe. Yeah, maybe. Peabody ’s setting up an interview room. Lounge is too public for this. She was in bad shape when I took her initial statement. She mention if her sister was involved with anyone?”

“Ah, yeah. Had a guy – money manager, broker, something like that. Serious, I think, maybe engaged. Can’t say that I paid much attention to that. I wasn’t after the sister, you know?”

“You catch the wit, Baxter?”

“Nah.” He smiled a little. “Like I said, she’s a nice woman.”

Which translated to they hadn’t slept together, and made it less sticky to have him in on the interview. “Okay, let me get Peabody working the ’link. We’ll take the wit.”

Eve let Baxter walk into Interview ahead of her, studied Palma ’s tear-splotched face when the woman looked over. She blinked a few times as if trying to process new information, then a series of emotions streaked over her face. Recognition, relief, dismay, and finally the grief settled on it again.