"My researchers have come across the name quite often. A suspiciously active person. If she's connected with your organization I should advise you to have her—"
"She doesn't work for us," Audibon said emphatically. "But we'd hire her at any time. I happen to know the young woman rather well."
"Oh?"
"I know for a fact that she has clean hands."
"There seems to be evidence to the contrary, Mr. Audibon." Macro waggled the slip of paper.
"You know I don't spitball off the cuff, Mr. Macro. Take my word for it. You'll be making a great mistake if you mother-hen any ideas about Gabrielle Valentine."
Macro looked dubious.
Audibon smiled dazzlingly. "The lady is my wife," he said.
"Good Heavens, Mr. Audibon! I never—The idea is ridiculous, of course." Macro crumpled the slip and tossed it into a gilt wastepaper basket.
Audibon took a breath. "But here's a replacement for the name," he said. "I suggest you touch a piece of litmus paper to a writer named Lennox, Jordan Lennox. My hunch is it'll turn a bright red."