someone did.'
'Not in my house,' Payton answered with a trace of arrogance. 'Got all the grown-up pussy I need, whenever I need it. For whatever I need.'
Monk gave him a slow-building smile. 'Good for you, son,' he answered in a tone of laconic amusement, and then placed one thick forefinger on the Asian girl's picture. 'So this girl was never in your house.'
Payton paused briefly before answering with calm conviction, 'If she was, man, I sure as hell didn't know about it.'
No, Monk thought, you're not stupid. Maybe just smart enough to fuck up. 'Any idea where you were last Tuesday afternoon?'
Silent, Payton gazed at the tape spinning on the table between them. 'If I'd known it was so important,' he said after a time, 'maybe I'd have noticed.'
'We know you're a busy man,' Ainsworth said in his most pleasant voice. 'But please do take your time.'
Payton's face went blank again. 'Don't have that much time.'
'We're going to give you some,' Monk assured him. 'While we visit with your brother.'
For whatever reason, Monk sensed, this worried Payton more than what had gone before. 'Rennell and me got to go,' their quarry insisted.
'We'll try to keep that in mind,' Monk said. He did not wait for an answer.
* * *
Arms resting on the table, Rennell Price made the room seem smaller. His face was fleshy, his features flat and indistinct, as though nothing was quite in focus. There was a gap between his two front teeth, both stained a dull yellow, one edged with a bright gold crown. Unlike his brother, he stared at the girl's photograph with a stony blankness.
'Remember her?' Monk asked.
The silence stretched with no sign of an answer; again, unlike Payton, Rennell seemed indifferent to the impression he made on Monk and Ainsworth, or even to their presence. 'Yeah,' he finally said. 'I think maybe I seen her.'
Monk reined in his surprise. 'Where?'
The same pause occurred, Monk was noting, before each answer—silence did not seem to trouble Rennell Price. 'Maybe at a store.'
'What store?'
Silence.
'You don't remember?'
Lazily, the big man shook his head. Though he no longer stared at the picture, he did not look up at Monk.
More sharply, Ainsworth asked, 'She ever at your house?'
This time his silence was followed by a single stubborn word. 'No.'
You, Monk decided, are the weak link. He could almost smell Payton's fear through the wall between them.
Learning forward, Monk spoke quietly. 'Because someone says you took her inside your house the day she disappeared.'
For the first time the dead zone which was Rennell Price's eyes showed defensiveness and a veiled hostility. 'No way.'
'What about last Tuesday, Rennell?'
'No.'
This time the monosyllable had come quickly, as did Monk's next question. 'Where were you last Tuesday?'
The big man shrugged, indifferent once more. 'Most days I sleep.'
That much Monk believed. 'Were you sleeping last Tuesday afternoon?'
'Probly.' Rennell said this with a lassitude which seemed to have seeped into his bone and brain, bespeaking days that were endlessly the same. To Monk, he seemed so divorced from humanity as to be beyond reach.
This same thought seemed to have struck Ainsworth. With a quiet, lascivious undertone, he inquired, 'When you saw her at the store, Rennell, did you think that she was pretty?'
This time Rennell did not move or speak.
'Her name was Thuy Sen,' Monk said in an even tone. 'Is there anything else you can tell us about her?'
To Monk's surprise, Rennell Price gazed up at him, though his face held no emotion. Then, very softly, he answered, 'I didn't do that little girl.'
So how do you know she was 'done'? Monk wondered. He said nothing to Rennell.
SIX
MONK HAD BEGUN WATCHING THE STREET TRAFFIC AND THE neighborhood stores, a grocery and vegetable stand and delicatessen with salami hanging in the window, stirring to life as they talked. Observing was his habit, Terri supposed.
