"Here's what you did," Frey said. "On Sunday you attended an exhibition at the Wheye Galleries, up on 57th Street. From there you went to Larry's, in the Village, where you had a dinner engagement with a man named Lasseroe. From there this guy took you to a party at the Vanderbilt. He went home alone. You stayed at the Vanderbilt. You stayed there for five days, with your very good friend, Daisy Hennifer, the jewelry designer. You had a few luncheon and dinner engagements with Lasseroe. You went to a few shops with Daisy. Then early last night you left the Vanderbilt and I lost you in Fifth Avenue traffic. I went back to tell Harry about it and to get your home address, because in all the days I'd been following you--well, you didn't once touch home. When I got to Harry's apartment, his valet informed me that Harry was out for the evening." "That's as far as you got?" "Hardly. I went to Harry's apartment again this morning. The valet came to the door and told me that Mr. Duggin was sleeping. I explained that it was certainly most important and I went in. But I couldn't wake Harry up, because he was dead. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. You know it already." "How did you get my home address?" She was still blinking a lot, but she wasn't excited. "The valet gave it to me." "You told him--?" "I didn't tell him anything. I came out of the bedroom and told him that Mr. Duggin was still sleeping. Then I asked him for your address. Maybe he still thinks that Harry is asleep. Or maybe he's found out already and the police are in on the case." She looked at the ceiling and then she looked at the floor and then she looked at Frey and said, "Now let me understand this. You say that I murdered Harry. You want me to sign a confession." "That's all there is to it," he said. "You're going to place yourself in a lot of difficulty, Mr. Frey," she murmured. "I advise that you give this matter a little more thought before you accuse anyone else--" "I'm not accusing anyone else," Frey said. "What are you going to do?" She blinked and then she looked at her wrist watch and then she looked at the marble. "I have a lot of work to finish before three thirty this afternoon," she said. "Please go now." She turned, took up her mallet and chisel, and started to work on the marble. She acted as if Frey had already walked out of the pale orange room. He shrugged and walked out. The Jap servant followed him to the door. He said to the Jap, "Tell Miss Rillette that I'll be back--after three thirty." He walked down the steps and stepped into the parked coupe. He turned the key in the ignition lock and said, "No go." "What happened?" this other guy said. This other guy was Mogin. He was about as tall as Frey and he weighed a little over 200 pounds. He had close-cropped blond hair and pretty blue eyes and he was a very tough boy. "She don't know from nothing," Frey said. He took the car around the corner and stepped on the gas.