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Sherlock said, “We had a case a couple of years ago that traced back to Dr. Costas. So when he saw it this time, Dillon recognized his style, I guess you could call it.”

Savich said, “Actually, in that case, it was Sherlock who picked up on something that didn’t feel right. Cortina Alvarez’s listed address is the Satterleigh Condominium complex near Rock Creek Park.”

Cam said, “I know them. I dated a guy a couple of years ago who owned one of the condos. It’s very upscale. Since she claimed to be an heiress, I guess it makes sense Alvarez wouldn’t live in a dump.”

Savich said, “All her taxes, insurance, and utilities are paid on time, her two-year-old Lexus is housed at the condo. There is sporadic use of credit cards, again, paid on time each month. It appears she’s spent very little time here in Washington over the past decade. Her passport destinations are primarily European.”

“Which means,” Cam said, “she has cars available to her in these locations and drives wherever she wants. She certainly wouldn’t rent a car and leave a paper trail.”

“Agreed,” Savich said. “Cam, you and Jack will pay Ms. Alvarez a visit tomorrow morning. I want to show her muscle. Take her to the Hoover Building, and we’ll all have a nice long talk. Here’s her passport photo, renewed two years ago.”

Jack looked at the sharp-featured face of a woman in her thirties with olive skin, short spiky red hair, green eyes ringed in black eyeliner, and heavy near-black lipstick. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a nose ring. “Says she’s five foot six, weighs one twenty-five. She looks like a Goth throwback.” He handed the photo to Cam.

Cam studied the photo. “Her hair is dyed or it’s a very good wig. With that olive complexion I doubt she has green eyes. Her hair is probably as dark as her eyes and eyebrows.” She looked at Savich. “Even this photo isn’t real, is it?”

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“I’ve run the photo through facial recognition, no matches, which means Alvarez isn’t in the database. That is, if that photo really is Alvarez.”

Cam picked an olive off her pizza and chewed on it. “Jack, remember Chief Harbinger’s daughter had the impression the woman with Jacobson and Manta Ray could be Hispanic?”

“Yeah, sure, but we didn’t get any kind of look at her.”

Sherlock said, “Okay, but why not her? It would make sense, keep it all in the family so to speak, wouldn’t it?”

Savich said, “And that would mean her boss had her set up the safe-deposit box in her name. The question is, who are they?”

Jack took a drink of the Funky Buddha, frowned. “You wouldn’t have a Bud, would you, Savich?”

* * *

An hour later, Jack walked Cam to the door. “Drive carefully. You sure your arm’s okay?”

“Stop worrying, I’m fine.”

“Okay, but remember, even though you don’t have a broken wing, you’re still driving with a lot of missing feathers.”

She laughed. “I hope you enjoy Hotel Savich. I hear only the really interesting people are invited to stay here.”

“I think it’s more to the point that they know I’m pretty much homeless here in Washington.” Jack paused, looked beyond her left shoulder. “The guy you dated at the Satterleigh condos, he was a rich guy? Who was he?”

“Derrick Benthurst was his name. His bank nearly destroyed the world economy, but he looked me right in the eye and claimed he knew nothing about it, the lying putz. On the plus side, he had a flat stomach and a nice smile.”

“How do you know he had a flat stomach? No, forget that. You didn’t get serious with him?”

She laughed, couldn’t help herself, and leaned in close. “Derrick was in the process of trying to discover whether he was gay. He was.”

He gave her a big smile. “Well, that’s enough to make a woman think twice. You’re right, what a putz.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Jack lightly touched his fingers to her blue sling. “I could ask them to let you stay, what with your missing feathers, but there’s only one guest bedroom. You’d have to sleep with me or in Sean’s room.”

She eyed him up and down. “Well, I’ve got to say you do clean up well, Cabot, but I sort of liked that black scruff all over your face. Do you snore?”

“Can’t say, I never stayed awake to listen to myself.”

“Har har. I wonder about Sean. Okay, time to get our brains back to the matter at hand.”

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