_She didn't answer as she moved aside to let him in. He stepped into the hallway and waited for her to close the door. As she did so, he took in the jade green dinner gown and reflected that it was the kind of yardage that gave you the idea but let you think you'd gotten it all by yourself. Evelyn had class with a soft "a," but it wasn't stuffy, not on her._ _"My maid's off tonight," she said, putting her arm through his and leading him toward the living room. "You can talk freely."_ _She maneuvered him to the divan in front of the fireplace and managed it so that they sat down in graceful unison. She leaned back and suddenly the dinner dress had a neckline._ The qualm flipped again on the surface of Fleetwood's mind, like a minnow breaking the mirrored calm of a mountain pool. He edged away from Evelyn. She was saying something, but suddenly her voice had a senseless, clattering sound. "What?" he said desperately. "What are you saying?" _"... so I hope you have something nice to show me," she was saying as his senses suddenly cleared. "I could use a dash of something nice just now."_ _"Oh, yes," Fleetwood said and reached into his pocket. He took out the ivory box and held it out to her._ _"The case!" she said, and he noticed that her hand trembled as she took it. "Are they ... are the stones all right?"_ _"They're all there," Fleetwood said and waited for the touch, the glance that he had hoped would be his reward. "You may jump a little, though, when I tell you where I got them."_ _"Oh?" she murmured. Her gaze remained fixed on the box and its contents._ _"Mario," Fleetwood said. "He lifted them the night of the killing." He sat back and waited._ _There wasn't a touch or a glance. There wasn't even a flicker of surprise. He should have gotten it straight right there, but it wasn't until she turned and glanced back over her shoulder that he really tumbled. He jumped up, but Mario was already in the doorway. The gun in Mario's hand was only the companion piece to the cold ruthlessness in his eyes._ _Evelyn got up from the divan and faded back into the shadows beside the fireplace. She still had class, cowering there in the dimness, but you could sound the "a" through your nose._ _"So that's how things match up," Fleetwood said. He turned away from Mario and stared at Evelyn, a dumb move, the kind of thing a guy does when he finds out that the angel in his life got her halo from the local tinsmith. "You're wasting yourself, Ev," he said softly. "You didn't have to team up with a rotten slob like that, not a gal like you. It's like pitting platinum buttons on a suit of flannel drawers--"_ * * * * *