"Mr. Balzac."
"Here. I mean, in the building. He lives there, above the store. . . . Wait, you're not thinking he was involved?"
"These're questions we need to ask," Sachs said noncommittally. The young woman seemed more amused than upset by the inquiry, though. She gave a laugh. "Look, I know he's gruff and he has this . . . I guess you'd call it an edge, you know. A temper. But he'd never hurt anybody."
Sachs nodded but then asked, "Still, you know where he was at eight this morning?"
Kara nodded. "Yeah, he was at the store. He got in early because some friend of his is in town doing a show and needed to borrow some equipment. I called to tell him I'd be a little late."
Sachs nodded. Then a moment later asked, "Can you take a little time off work?"
"Me? Oh, no way." An embarrassed laugh. "I was lucky to sneak out now. There're a thousand things to do around the store. Then I've got three or four hours of rehearsing with David for a show I'm doing tomorrow. He doesn't let me rest the day before a performance. I--"
Sachs held the woman's crisp blue eyes. "We're really afraid this person's going to kill someone else."
Kara's eyes swept the sticky mahogany bar.
"Please. Just for a few hours. Look over the evidence with us. Brainstorm."
"He won't let me. You don't know David."
"What I know is that I'm not letting anybody else get hurt if there's any way I can stop it."
Kara finished her coffee and absently played with the cup. "Using our tricks to kill people," she whispered in a dismayed voice.
Sachs said nothing and let silence do the arguing for her.
Finally the young woman grimaced. "My mother's in a home. She's been in and out of the infirmary. Mr. Balzac knows that. I guess I could tell him I have to go check on her."
"We really could use your help."
"Oh-oh. The sick mother excuse. . . . God's gonna get me for this one."
Sachs glanced down again at Kara's perfect, black nails. "Hey, one thing: What happened to that quarter?"
"Look under your coffee cup," the girl replied.
Impossible. "No way."
Sachs lifted up the cup. There sat the coin.
The bewildered policewoman asked, "How'd you do that?"
Kara's answer was an enigmatic smile. She nodded at the cups. "Let's get a couple more to go." She picked up the coin. "Heads you buy, tails it's on me. Two out of three." She flipped it into the air.
Sachs nodded. "Deal."
The young woman caught it and glanced into her cupped palm. She looked up. "We said two out of three, right?"
Sachs nodded.
Kara opened her fingers. Inside were two dimes and a nickel. The dimes were heads up. No sign of the quarter. "Guess this means you're buying."
Chapter Eight "Lincoln, meet Kara."
She'd been warned, Rhyme could see, but the young woman still blinked in surprise and glanced at him with the Look. The one he knew so well. Accompanied by the Smile.
It was the famous don't-look-at-his-body gaze, accompanied by the oh-you're-handicapped-I-never-noticed grin.