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She practically put her finger to her lips. “There’s a man in the outer office,” she hissed.

“So?”

“I’m not sure, but he looks like a process server.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t tell him you were here,” Tracy said. “You want to duck out the back?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m not ducking service. Show the gentleman in.”

Tracy obviously didn’t agree, but she nodded and went out.

“Maybe I should get out of here,” Taylor said.

“No. Stick around, Mark. I want to see if he serves you too.”

Tracy returned with a rather apologetic looking individual with a briefcase.”

“Mr. Winslow?” he said.

“I’m Winslow. This is Mark Taylor.”

The man handed Steve a paper. “Mr. Winslow, there is a subpoena to appear before the grand jury at two this afternoon and to answer questions arising from the death of one David C. Bradshaw. I’m sorry to trouble you. Please understand, I mean no offense. I’m merely doing my job.”

The process server bowed himself out of the door.

Steve eyed the subpoena thoughtfully.

“Well, that’s quick work,” Taylor said.

“Yes it is,” Steve said. He looked up from the subpoena. “All right, Mark. At least they don’t want you. Get out of here and get some sleep.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. There’s nothing much you can do now. Put a man on the phones and go home.”

Taylor heaved himself out of the chair. “That’s a break,” he said. He nodded to Tracy and went out.

The minute he was gone, Tracy turned on Steve. Her eyes were flashing.

“All right,” she said. “I’ve had enough.”

Steve held up his hand. “Whoa. Back up. What do you mean, you had enough?”

“You can’t do this. It’s not right.”

“What?”

Tracy was going for righteous indignation, but she was bordering dangerously on schoolgirl pout. “You know what. I’m supposed to be your confidential secretary. That’s what you told the D.A. That’s why I’m not answering questions for the police. All right. Your detective just gave you a rundown on the case. Did you have me sit in and take notes? No. You kept me in the outer office and wouldn’t let me hear a thing.”

Steve rubbed his head. “Right. And that isn’t fair, is that it? Well, I’m sorry. But I told you. We have a delicate situation here. You’re my secretary, but you’re also a participant. The D.A. may come after you. In fact, you can consider it a lucky break that process server wasn’t after you.”

“You said they couldn’t make me testify.”

“I said it was a fine line. And it is. Maybe they can, maybe they can’t. But they can damn well try.”

“So?”

“So while you’re in the position of being a potential witness, there may be some things you’re better off not knowing.”

“Such as?”

Steve threw up his arms. “The hell of it is, I don’t know. Now I’ll tell you everything Mark told me. There was nothing you couldn’t hear. But I didn’t know that until I heard it. So I had to hear it first. See?”

“Yeah, I see. And I don’t like it at all.”

“You think I do?” Steve waved the subpoena. “You think this is my idea of a good time?” He sighed. “Well, at least now I know what we’re up against.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see this subpoena?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“It’s just an ordinary subpoena.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything. I was expecting a subpoena duces tecum. You know what that is?”

“Isn’t that an order to produce a piece of evidence?”

“Right. I expected a subpoena ordering me to bring into court any or all bills in my possession bearing the serial numbers on the list I gave Stams. Since Dirkson suspects me of having taken the bills, it’s only logical for him to order me to produce them. But he didn’t do that.”

Tracy frowned. “Why not?”

“Only one reason I can think of.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s already got them. And if he has, it’s ten to one he found them in Bradshaw’s apartment.”

Tracy’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. What are you going to do?”

Steve shrugged. “That’s the thing. I really don’t know.”

“I see.”

“You do? Good. So get the chip off your shoulder and let me bring you up to date, and then with all due respect get the hell out of here ’cause I’ve got some thinking to do.”

After he’d told Tracy everything he felt she needed to know and she’d departed for the outer office, Steve leaned back in his chair, rubbed his forehead, and blew out a breath of air. Yeah, he had some thinking to do, but there was one thing he’d already thought out. One thing he knew he had to do. He just didn’t really want to do it.

Steve tipped the chair forward and picked up the phone. When he did so, the light on the receiver went on, to indicate that the line was in use. Steve frowned. He realized the light on Tracy’s phone would have gone on too. He didn’t like that. He wondered if Tracy would be curious enough to try to listen in on his calls. He wasn’t sure. But he figured if she picked up, he’d hear a click on the line.

Steve shook his head. Shit, what was he doing. Tracy wasn’t the problem. He was just thinking all that because he didn’t want to make the call. He leaned forward and punched in the number of Judy Meyers.

Steve Winslow and Judy Meyers had an off-again on-again relationship. Usually it was off-again, and usually, Steve realized, that was his fault. Steve shied away from close relationships, and had a paranoid fear of being tied down. For him, two dates in a row seemed something like a commitment. So his relationship with Judy Meyers could at best be described as arm’s length. For the present, to the best of his recollection, he hadn’t called her in over a month.

Which was why he felt like such a shit for calling her now.

“Hello?” Judy said.

“Judy. Steve.”

There was pause, then, “The man lives. How you doing?”

“Pretty good.”

“I’ll bet.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Is this social, sexual, or business?”

Steve sighed. “I need a favor.”

“You in a jam?”

“Yeah. Kind of.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Figures. What do you need?”

“Got a pencil and paper?”

“Always. You could have been my agent with an audition.”

“Fine. Take this down.”

Steve gave her Bradshaw’s address.

“O.K. What about it?”

“It’s an apartment building with a side alley. I’m interested in the side alley.”

“You want me to go prowling around in some alley?”

“Not at all. In fact, I don’t want you to go near the place.”

Judy laughed. “You’ll pardon me if I’m not quite following this.”

“Good. It’s better if you don’t.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“This is fascinating. So what am I supposed to do about this address that I’m not to go to?”

“I want you to go to the neighborhood. Maybe a block or so away. Just so you don’t go near the building.”

“Then what?”

“Then I want you to find a couple of young boys playing in the street.”

“Steve, have you been drinking?”

“No. Find some young boys. If you can’t find any, you may have to look around. But again, don’t go near the address.”

“How young would you like these boys?” Judy asked facetiously.

“Young enough they don’t rape you, but old enough you hold their interest.”

“Great. I love the buildup. Say I find these boys. Then what?”

“Then you ask them if they’d like to play a game.”

“Is there a point to all this? If so, I wish you’d tell me, ’cause I’d like to get on with my life.”

“O.K. Here’s the point. You tell ’em you’ll give the winner ten bucks and the loser five bucks. Tell ’em the game is a treasure hunt. Give ’em the address I gave you, and tell ’em the treasure is in the alley next to that building.”

“Son of a bitch,” Judy said. “Did you get another murder case?”