You sit in a shadowy corner of cottage 18, watching as Bitterman interviews a teary-eyed Helena Hiss. Since the body was discovered in his jurisdiction, the Taos captain has taken over the investigation and there's little you can do except tag along and take notes.

Helena seems like a woman who hasn't received a lot of sympathetic handling in her life, certainly not now, not from Bitterman. "I shouldn't have let him go out alone that night," she moans.

"The night he was kidnapped?" Bitterman says coolly.

She nods. "Arnie got this call. Around ten p.m. I didn't hear any of what was said, but he got very upset. Then he hung up and ran out, just jumped in the car and drove off. I didn't hear a word until the next morning. That's when I got the first call from the kidnapper."

"Did Arnold get along with his partner, Glen Treater?"

"Not lately." She glances your way. "You heard how Glen was about the ransom. He wanted to end the partnership -- go off on his own. But Arnie was smart enough to keep records, things that could put Glen in jail. He was using this to keep Glen under control."

"And what about Post's sister? Is there some reason why you two didn't visit her? You were going to."

She chooses her words carefully. "Carrie once loaned him money. Arnie called it a loan. She called it an investment and wanted more than her principal back." Helena shrugs apologetically. "I know. Carrie March is filthy rich and important. But she has this mania over money. When it comes to getting what she thinks she deserves, she can be a demon. Arnie was tired of trying to deal with her."

Bitterman ends the interview abruptly, taking you out into the parking area. "We're not going to learn any more from her." He's a fireplug of a man, short and sturdy. "I'm going down to Albuquerque. Check up on this Nabokov character."

"You think this might be business related?" you ask.

"A sports book is big money. If your partner gets killed, you're suddenly weaker. Your clients get nervous. Makes you ripe for a takeover."

"Makes sense." You say this next part casually, like it's just an idle thought. "Do you think bookies ever extort their clients? You know, some big wig gambles with them. He owes them money. They call in a favor. But the big wig doesn't want to cooperate."

Bitterman regards you suspiciously. "I don't think that happens."

You keep it casual. "Want me to come along? To see Nabokov?"

"No," he says flatly. "You stay here. If you want, check up on Post. Those two days, between his arrival and his kidnapping. What was he doing? Did he see anyone? Did he go shopping?"

"Shopping?"

"Yeah, shopping. You let me handle the gambling angle, okay? That's an order."

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