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irritates me,” she said, “is that I got in trouble with Mac because Andy said the file sat on my desk for three days before it got to you. That’s an outright lie. Andy took it home with him. I saw him put it in his briefcase Tuesday when the fire-department report came in.”
    â€œDid you tell Mac that?”
    â€œWell, no. Why bother? It sounds like I’m trying to defend myself by pushing all the blame off on him.”
    â€œYou’re right. I found myself in the same position,” I said. “Look, if Andy falsified the fire-department report, he probably did the dirty work at home, don’t you think?”
    â€œProbably.”
    â€œSo maybe we can turn up some proof if we look. I’ll nose around at his place if you’ll try his office.”
    â€œHe moved, you know. He’s not at the house. He and Janice are in the process of splitting up.”
    â€œHe’s getting divorced?”
    â€œOh, sure. It’s been going on for months. She’s hosing him, too.”
    â€œReally. Well, that’s interesting. Where’s he living?”
    â€œOne of those condos out near Sand Castle.”
    I’d seen the complex: one hundred and sixty units across from a public golf course called Sand Castle, out beyond Colgate in the little community of Elton. “What about his office? Is there any way you could check that out?”
    Darcy smiled for the first time. “Sure. I’ll do that. It would serve him right.”
    I got her home number and said I’d call later. I paid both checks and took off, figuring it wouldn’t be a good idea to get caught in Darcy’s company. While I was downtown, I hoofed it over to the credit bureau and had a discreet chat with a friend of mine who works as a key-punch operator. I’d done some workfor her years before, checking into the background of a certain seedy gent who had hoped to relieve her of a burdensome savings account. She’d had the bucks in hand to pay me, but I sensed that both of us would benefit from a little bartering—“professional courtesies,” as they’re known. Now I check out any new fellow in her life and, in return, she pirates occasional confirmation copies of computer runs. One drawback is that I have to wait until a periodic updating of the master file is scheduled, which usually happens once a week. I asked her to give me anything she had on Lance Wood and she promised me something in a day. On an impulse, I asked her to check out Andy Motycka while she was at it. Financial information on Wood/Warren I’d have to get from the local equivalent of Dun & Bradstreet. My best source of information was going to be California Fidelity itself, for whom Lance Wood had no doubt filled out countless forms in applying for coverage. I was hoping I could enlist Darcy’s aid again on that one. It was amazing to me how much more appealing she seemed now that she was on my team. I trotted back to pick up my car.
    As I pulled out of the parking lot behind the building, Andy was just pulling in, pausing while the machine stamped and spat a ticket through the slot. He pretended he didn’t see me.
    I drove back to my apartment. I’d never paid much attention to the looming importance of the office inmy life. I conduct maybe 40 percent of all business in my swivel chair, telephone in the crook of my neck, files close at hand. Sixty percent of the time I’m probably on the road, but I don’t like feeling cut off from my reference points. It puts me at a subtle disadvantage.
    It was only 10:05 and the day loomed ahead. Out of habit, I hauled out my little portable Smith-Corona and started typing up my notes. That done, I caught up with some filing, prepared some bills for a couple of outstanding accounts, and then tidied up my desk. I hate sitting around. Especially when I could be out getting into trouble. I gave Darcy a call at CFI and got Andy’s new address