restaurant so that we might go someplace private, we can do that.'
She shook her head.
I said, 'Typically, when an officer is profiting from crime, it shows up in his lifestyle. He'll buy a boat or a time- share or maybe a high-end sound system. Something like that.'
She nodded.
'Mark hasn't. In fact, I checked his bank balances and his credit card expenses and there is no indication that he has received any undue or inordinate sums of money.'
She looked confused. 'What does that mean?'
'It means that he has not been acting strangely because he's involved in crime. There's a different reason. He's seeing another woman.'
Jennifer Sheridan made a little smile and shook her head as if I'd said three plus one is five and she was going to correct me. 'No. That's not possible.'
'I'm afraid that it is.'
'Where's your proof?' Angry now. The older woman at the next table looked over. She frowned when she did. She had a lot of hair and the frown made her look like one of those lizards with the big frill.
I said, 'Five minutes after you left my office yesterday, Mark came to see me. He had been following you. He explained to me that he was seeing someone else, and that he had not been able to bring himself to tell you. He asked me not to tell you this, but my obligation and my loyalty are to you. I'm sorry.' The detective delivers the death blow.
Jennifer Sheridan didn't look particularly devastated, but maybe that was just me.
The waiter brought our food and asked Jennifer Sheridan if she'd like catsup for her french fries. She said yes and we waited as he went to the counter, found a bottle, and brought it back. Neither of us said anything and Jennifer Sheridan didn't look at me until he had gone away. He seemed to know that something was wrong and frowned at me, too. The woman with the big hair was keeping a careful eye on our table.
When the waiter was gone, Jennifer Sheridan ate two french fries, then said, 'For Mark to come to you and make up a story like this, he must be in bigger trouble than I thought.'
I stared at her. 'You think he's making it up?'
'Of course.'
I put down my fork and I looked at the nicoise. It was a good-looking salad with freshly grilled ahi tuna, and I think I would've enjoyed eating it. Jennifer Sheridan had asked me for proof and I told her about my visit from Mark Thurman, but I hadn't told her the rest of it and I hadn't wanted to. I said, 'He's not making this up.'
'Yes, he is. If you knew Mark, you'd know that, too.' Confident.
I nodded, and then I looked at the salad again. Then I said, 'What size bra do you wear?'
She turned a deep shade of crimson. 'Now you're being ugly.'
'I put you at a thirty-four B. I went into Mark's apartment to look through his bank papers and I found a thirty- six C-cup brassiere.'
She looked shocked. 'You broke into his apartment? You went through his things?'
'That's what private detectives do, Ms. Sheridan.'
She put her hands in her lap. 'It isn't real.'
'It was a red Lily of France brassiere. I held it. It was real.'
She shook her head. 'That's not what I mean. They knew you would look so they planted it there to make you think he was seeing another woman. What do they call it? A false lead?'
'Later that evening, I staked out a country-and-western bar called Cody's. It's a place where the police officers who work with Mark tend to gather. At a little bit after eight last night, Mark and his partner Floyd Riggens arrived. Mark was with a tall woman with dark brown hair.' I felt bad telling her and the bad feeling was oily and close, but there didn't seem to be any other way.
'And?'
'I wish I had better news, but there it is. I have looked into the matter and this is what I have found. I think my work here is done.'
'You mean you're quitting?'
'The case is solved. There's nothing left to do.'
Jennifer Sheridan's eyes welled and her mouth opened and she let out a long loud wail and began to cry. The woman with the big hair gasped and looked our way and so did most of the other people in the restaurant.
I said, 'Maybe we should leave.'
'I'm all right.' She made loud whooping sounds like she couldn't catch her breath and the tears rolled down her cheeks, making dark tracks from the mascara. The waiter stormed over to the maitre d' and made an angry gesture. The woman with the big hair said something to an elderly man at an adjoining table and the elderly man glared at me. I felt two inches tall.
'Try to see it this way, Jennifer. Mark being involved with another woman is better than Mark being involved in crime. Crime gets you in jail. Another woman is a problem you can work out together.'
Jennifer Sheridan wailed louder. 'I'm not crying because of that.'
'You're not?'
