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“Have any of the bills you’ve paid since his confrontation with his mother included transportation fees to Delta Colony or to Paris?”

Mince folded his lips into a tight line. “Both. He has friends in those places. I can’t say I completely approve, though they do come from good families. There’s a wildness to them, a carelessness. Vince’s debts always go deeper when he’s in contact with Dominic II Naples or Michel Gerade.”

“Mr. Mince, can I have your permission to see the bills that came due this morning?”

“Lieutenant, I don’t even share such matters with my wife. You’re asking me to breach a trust.”

“No, I’m asking to

help you keep one.” She got to her feet. “Would Vince Lane hurt his mother for financial gain?”

“Physically harm Magda? No, no, of course not. That’s completely out of the question.”

“There are other ways beyond the physical.”

Mince’s lips trembled. “Yes. Yes, there are. And yes, I’m afraid he would. He loves her. In his way, he loves her very much. But he . . . I’ll bring up the data for you.”

It took Eve less than thirty seconds to spot what she was looking for. “Naples Communications. One million dollars.”

“Horrible,” Mince said from behind her. “Vince has no need for a system of that complexity. I can’t imagine what he was thinking.”

“I can,” Eve murmured.

“You think he’ll stick to his word about not telling Magda or Lane about this?” Peabody asked as they took the elevator up to Lane’s floor.

“Yeah, at least for the time being. Long enough, anyway, to give us a shot at him, and his pals.”

“Screwing over his own mother. That’s the lowest.”

“I think murder beats that out.”

They walked down the quiet hall, rang the bell beside one of the glossy double doors. Lane opened the door himself.

He was dressed casually in a spring sweater and trousers. His feet were bare, and he wore a trendy sport’s wrist unit. He had a wide, perfect smile.

“Eve, how nice to see you again. Or if you’re here to discuss police business, perhaps I should call you Lieutenant.”

“Since I’m here to talk over some points about the auction, you decide.”

He laughed, gestured her inside. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re taking an interest. It really settles my mother’s mind. Please sit, be comfortable. Liza, company!”

Lane’s suite was several snazzy steps up from the Minces’ suite. The living area flowed in a wide curve toward a formal dining area. Chandeliers glimmered overhead, a snow-white piano held court in a corner. A winding gold ribbon of open stairs led to a second level. And down them, brilliantly beautiful in a skinsuit as white as the piano, glided Liza.

Eve didn’t think the glitters at her ears, her wrists, her neck, and her ankles were manmade. How much did those set you back, Vinnie old pal? she wondered.

“Hello.” Liza gave a pouty little smile and fluffed her hair.

“Sorry to interrupt your day,” Eve said pleasantly. “I’d hoped to confer with Vince over a few auction details. The NYPSD wants to be certain Ms. Lane’s event goes smoothly.”

Liza stifled a yawn. “I’ll be glad when it’s over. It’s all anyone wants to talk about.”

“It must be tedious for you.”

“Well, it is. If that’s all you’re going to talk about, I think I’ll go out and do some shopping.”

“Sorry to chase you off. This shouldn’t take very long,” Eve said.

“Why don’t I meet you?” Obviously anxious to placate, Vince moved to her, ran his hands up her arms. “Let’s say twelve-thirty at Rendezvous. We’ll have lunch.”


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