"I wasn't going to tell you this," Anna continues in a hard voice. "I shouldn't tell you this, but now that I am clearly going to be used against you…"

"What do you mean, used against her?" Marino butts in.

"Originally, I was hoping to guide you, to help allay these allegations about your mental health," Anna says to me. "I did not believe it. And if I had any doubt, and maybe there was

just a slight doubt because I had not seen you in so long, then

I wanted to talk to you anyway, out of concern. You are my friend. Buford assured me that anything I could find out was not something he planned to do anything with. Our conversa- tions were supposed to be private, his and mine. He said nothing, absolutely nothing, about accusing you."

"Righter?" Marino scowls. "He ask you to be some kind of fucking snitch?"

Anna shakes her head. "A guide." She uses that word again.

"That fucking figures. The loser." Marino's anger springs forth.

"He had to know if Kay was mentally stable. Certainly you can see why he needs to know that if she was going to be his star witness. I always thought this was about your being a star witness, not a suspect!"

"Suspect my ass." Marino scowls. He makes no pretenses now. He knows exactly what is going on.

"Marino, I know you're not supposed to tell me I'm being investigated by a special grand jury for the murder of Diane Bray," I say to him, evenly. "But out of curiosity, I'm wondering, how long have you known? For example, when you ushered me out of my house on Saturday night, you knew then, didn't you? That's why you watched me like a hawk inside my own house. So I didn't do something sneaky like dispose of evidence, or God knows what? That's why you wouldn't let me drive my car, right? Because you guys needed to see if there might be evidence in it, maybe Diane Bray's blood? Fibers? Hair? Something that would put me at her house the night she was killed?" My tone is cool but searing.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Marino erupts. "I know you didn't do nothing. Righter's the biggest fuckhead, and I told him that. I've been telling him that every day. What'd you ever do to him, huh? You want to tell me why the hell he's doing this to you?"

"You know what?" I stare hard at him. "I'm not going to hear one more time that everything is my fault. I didn't do a damn thing to Righter. I don't know what's gotten him on this ridiculous kick unless it's Jay planting stuff."

"And I guess that ain't your fault, either. Sleeping with him."

"He's not doing this because I slept with him," I fire back.

"If he's doing anything, it's because I only slept with him once."

McGovern is frowning, leaning against the hearth. She says, "Dear oP Jay. Mister Squeaky Clean, pretty boy. Funny, I've never had a good feeling about him."

"I told Buford that you are definitely not mentally ill." Anna sets her jaw squarely and looks at me fiercely. "He wanted to know if I thought you were competent to assist him, if I think you are stable. See, he lied. This was supposed to be about our assisting him in the trial of Chandonne. I never imagined. I cannot believe Buford would slither out from under a rock and subpoena me like this." She places a hand on her breast as if her heart is bothering her and briefly shuts her eyes.

"Are you all right, Anna?" I start to get up.

She shakes her head from side to side. "I will never be all right again. I would never have talked to you, Kay, if I thought such a thing would happen."

"Did you tape her, take notes?" McGovern asks.

"Of course not."

"Good."

"But if I am asked…" she starts to say.

"I understand," I reply. "Anna, I understand. What's done is done." It is now that I must tell Marino the other news. While we are on such dreadful subjects, he may as well hear it all. "Your son, Rocky," I say his name and nothing more. Maybe I am trying to see if Marino already knows this, too.

He turns to stone. "What about him?"

"It appears he is representing Chandonne," I reply.

Marino's face darkens to a deep, scary red. For a moment, no one speaks. He doesn't know. Then Marino says in a flat, hard tone, "He would do something like that. Probably has something to do with what's happening to you, too, if that's possible. Funny thing about it, I halfway wondered if he had

something to do with Chandonne's ending up here."

"Why would you wonder that?" McGovern asks in amazement.

"He's a mob boy, that's why. Probably knows Big Papa Chandonne over there in Paris and would like nothing better than causing me trouble here."

"I think it's time you talk about Rocky," I tell him.

"You got any bourbon in this house?" Marino asks Anna.

She gets up and leaves the room.

"Aunt Kay, you can't stay here anymore," Lucy says to me in a quiet, urgent voice.

"You can't talk to her anymore, Kay," McGovern adds.

I don't answer. Of course, they are right. Now, on top of it all, I have lost my friend.

"So, did you tell her anything?" Marino says to me in an accusing tone that has become all too familiar.

"I told her the world was better off without Diane Bray," I reply. "In other words, I basically said I'm glad she's dead."

"So's everybody who knew her," Marino retorts. "And I'll be glad to tell the fucking special grand jury that."

"Not a helpful statement, but doesn't mean you murdered anybody," McGovern says to me.

"Not helpful is right," Marino mutters. "Damn, I hope Anna don't tell Righter you're glad Bray was whacked," he says to me.

"This is so absurd," is my response.

"Well," Marino replies, "yes and no, Doc."

"You don't have to talk to me about this," I tell him. "Don't put yourself in a bad spot, Marino."

"Oh fuck it!" He waves me off. "I know you didn't kill that damn bitch. But you gotta look at it from the other side. You had problems with her. She was trying to get you fired. You've been acting a little hinky ever since Benton died, or at least that's what people have been saying, right? You have a confrontation with Bray in a parking lot. The theory is you was jealous of this new big-shot police lady. She was making you look bad and complaining about you. So you killed her and disguised it to look like it was the same guy who whacked Kim Luong, and who better to do that than you, right? Who more capable of the perfect murder than you, right? And you had access_first dibs on all the evidence. You could have beaten her to death and planted Wolfman's hairs on her body, even switched swabs so they come up with his DNA. And it don't look good that you took that evidence from the Paris morgue and brought it over here, either. Or took that water sample. Righter thinks you're a nut case, I hate to tell you. And I gotta add that he don't like you personally and never has because he's got the balls of a soprano and don't like powerful women. He don't even like Anna, if the truth be known. The Berger thing's kind of the best revenge. He really hates her."

Silence.

"I wonder if they're going to subpoena me," Lucy says.