"Yes, I know. Rob wasn't at all faithful to Maggie, you know. It wasn't Maggie's fault. Actually, I've never known Rob to be faithful to any woman for longer than perhaps two and a half weeks, maximum."

I leaned back in my chair, a match to hers, my elbows resting on my thighs, hands clasped between my knees. "He was only faithful to you that long, Elaine?"

"I suppose there'll be an investigation," she said, giving me a sad smile. "It was two and a half weeks exactly. I'll tell you, I was very surprised when he patted my cheek one evening after we'd made love and told me he was moving on. He was speaking metaphorically, of course, since we were at his cottage and so I was the one who had to leave. It was always so clean, that precious little house, what with Mr. Thorne taking such good care of it. I never even questioned if the sheets were fresh. I knew they were." She sighed and dabbed a very pretty swatch of white handkerchief to her eyes. "Rob was such a lovely young man. I could be with him for hours, not saying anything, content to touch his beautiful body." She actually sighed again. "Such endurance he had. And he just got more and more devoted as time went on." She looked over at me through her lashes. "In matters of the flesh, I mean."

"Who did he move on to?" Savich asked. He'd remained standing behind Sherlock, who was sitting on a low blue brocade love seat, his hand lightly resting on her shoulder.

"To Maggie. I tried to tell her that he was a Teflon kind of guy, but she just laughed and said just because I was rich didn't mean Rob would stay with me."

"Mother, get rid of these creeps. Tell them to get out. They don't have a warrant. They have no power to make us do anything."

"Now, Cotter, there's no call to be rude," Elaine said. She looked at him like she really loved him, but she also let him see her parental disappointment. "You did learn manners and good breeding when you were growing up, remember? I don't know what happened to them though."

"You can take the boy out of the loony bin," Sherlock said, giving Cotter a small salute, "but you can't take- well, you know the rest of it."

I thought Cotter would leap on Sherlock, but then he saw Savich's face.

"I'm not crazy."

"No, of course you're not, dear. You're just high-strung, like I was when I was your age. I want you to keep yourself calm. Our guests are nearly ready to leave."

"Do you know anything about Rob Morrison's murder?" I asked him.

"Not a damned thing," Cotter said, his voice savage. "But no big loss. The bastard's dead. No one wants the prick now."

Savich said in that deep, calm voice of his, "I'm tired of your foul mouth, Cotter. You're an undisciplined boy in a man's body. You're offending me."

Cotter just stared at Savich for a long moment, then he took a step back.

"I can say whatever I want to, you fuckhead."

"That's quite enough," Elaine Tarcher said, rising gracefully to her feet to face the man who was her son, and who was also certifiable. "You're not off in the woods with them somewhere, Cotter, you're here in the living room of my house."

To my wonder and relief, Cotter said in a calm, controlled voice, "I'm sorry, Mother. I don't want to make a mess in the living room. You have so many nice things in here." He'd made the right choice.

"Yes, dear. It's kind of you to remember. Go find your father now."

Cotter walked out through the elegant arch of the living room doorway. He turned and said, "Rob Morrison was a fool. He only wanted you for two and a half weeks, Mother. Was he blind? You're so beautiful the bastard should have been crawling to you. Rob was fucked up, crazy." Then he was gone.

"I apologize," Elaine said with a charming smile to all of us. "Cotter gets overstimulated sometimes. My mother was exactly the same way. I believe it's drinking too much coffee. He doesn't mean any harm. Now, are you all ready to leave? It's time, you know. I do have a lot to accomplish this afternoon."

Sherlock shuddered. Laura said, "Mrs. Tarcher, your son is very seriously disturbed. He's a sociopath. He needs professional help before he hurts someone or himself. Surely you see that?"

"She's right," Savich said. "He's dangerous, ma'am, and one of these days he won't back down."

"I'll deal with it if and when that day comes," she said. "He doesn't need a shrink. That's absurd. Actually, I believe he got himself involved with that terrible drug of Paul's. As soon as some time passes, I'm sure he will be all right again.