RANSVESTIA

"Yes," she said quite naturally, a perfect woman's voice. "I know you, don't I? You're the cop, Hamilton."

Hamilton frowned. "I thought I recognized you in an earlier pic- ture today, but I'm not so sure. . . . You bailed Tommaso out a month ago. You set the precinct's work schedule back a couple of hours when you walked in.”

She bestowed a pearly smile on the sergeant. Turning her head so that her long earrings jangled, she said lightly, "Come in. Tommaso will join you in a moment.”

The two stepped in, Ellis closing the door. She minced in her open-toed, high heels across to a sofa, a feminine sway in her walk. "We didn't come to see Tommaso," Hamilton twisted his hat in his hands. "Danny Mezlivsky was shot to death in an apartment next door last night."

Her whole body stiffened in the chair. "So why do you come here?" Her voice was calm and unemotional.

Hamilton displayed surprise. "Why not?" he said. “You are his

brother."

She became very still. Then slowly and gracefully she got up, went over to the bedroom door and closed it quietly. "What do you want?” Her voice was still calm.

"You and Danny fought. What about?" Hamilton's manner had become more abrupt.

She glanced at the closed bedroom door and returned to her chair. Hamilton sat down at the other end of the sofa. "Danny wanted me to be just like him." The contralto was steady and controlled.

"And so you killed him," Hamilton's voice was equally steady, but Ellis jerked with surprise. Rachel's eyes widened in astonishment.

"The surveillance on Tommaso reports a blonde left here at about one fifteen last night, returning at one thirty." Hamilton continued, as Rachel watched him quietly. "What was it Danny was going to do? Tell Tommaso the true story? I hear Tommaso has kept you pure, if

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