ROBLES WAS SITTING AT SLOANS DESK WHEN LUCAS and Sherrill arrived at Homicide. He was talking to Sloan, and Lucas watched for a minute. Robles was crossing and recrossing his ankles under his chair, twisting his hands together, rubbing the back of his neck, squirming in the chair. Serious stress, Lucas thought. Lucas walked up behind him, trailed by Sherrill, and when Sloan looked up, Robles turned, then got to his feet.
D-D-Detective Davenport, he stuttered. Ive bbbeen talking to Detective Sloan, he thinks you should know about this.
Lucas took a chair and Sherrill pulled one out of a nearby desk.
So… you think you know who did it? Lucas asked.
No. I know somebody whosaysshe did it, but I dont think she really did. But if I didnt tell you, I thought… I dont know what I thought.
So? Lucas grinned at him and made aWhat? gesture with his hands.
Robles had a friend, he said, a woman, a computer freak hed met in an Internet chat room, and then in person, when it turned out that she lived in Minneapolis. When the news hit the papers that Polaris was considering a merger, and alarge number of administrative and clerical personnel in Minneapolis could lose their jobs, she called him to ask him if the merger could be stopped.
Her mother works at Polaris, routine clerical stuff, exactly the kind of job that would probably be wiped out, Robles said.
And you told her that the merger couldnt be stopped.
Not exactly. I told her that nobody much wanted it except Kresge and a small majority of board members, and the only reason the board was going for it was the stock premium…
Explain that, Sherrill said. I dont understand stocks.
Well, see, Midland has offered to buy all the outstanding Polaris shares by trading with their shares, one to one. When they made the offer, they were trading in the sixtiessixty-plus dollars per shareand we were trading in the upper thirties. Their stock dropped on the offer, down to about fifty-three right now. But ours went to forty-six right now, and the closer we get to the merger, and the more certain it looks, the more ours will go up. If we finally merge, and nothing else happens, itll probably be around fifty dollars a share. Polaris needs ten board members to okay the deal. If you look at how many board members own how much stock, the tenth biggest holder… Robles looked at Sherrill, who seemed to be having trouble following the explanation. What Im saying is, of those ten members needed to approve the merger, the one with the smallest holding is Shelley Oakes. He has ninety thousand shares, plus options for fifty thousand more at an average price in the thirties. If the sale goes through at fifty bucks, hell make a couple of million bucks over what the stock was worth before the merger talk started.
Ah, Sherrill said, as though she understood.
The biggest holder, Dave Brandt, has better than four hundred thousand shares, plus God only knows what he has in stock options, which he could exercise before the dealgoes down. Hell make tens of millions. Literally tens of millions.
So the board and Kresge make millions, and everybody else gets fired, Lucas said.
No, not exactly. Some people would make it. Therere rumors that the investment division will be kept intact, that Midland wants the division. Then there are other executives who could make a stink, but most of them have stock options.
Do you have options? Lucas asked.
Yeah, yeah. Ive got options on five thousand shares at a bunch of different prices that average out to about thirty-five, so if it goes to fifty, Id make seventy-five thousand. But Ill tell you what, thats about six weeks pay for me. And the government would get most of it anyway. I mean, its nothing.
Nothing, Sherrill said.
Nothing.
Jesus, I make forty thousand a year, Sherrill said. And Ive been shot for it.
For your big shots, forty aint a salary, Sloan said from behind Robles. Its more like the price tag on something they might buy next week.
Okay, okay, Lucas said. So this woman…
Bonnie Bonet.
… told you she killed Kresge, and she has some motive.
Yes.
Whyd she tell you?
Ah, God. Because I asked her. He twisted his hands nervously, and Lucas noticed that he seemed to sweat all the time, and copiously. See, the thing is, when she came on the net and asked if the merger could be stopped, I told her, not unless we killed Kresge. I didnt mean it, we were just joking on the net. But she came right back and said, Lets do it.
And you said…
I said maybe we could figure a way to blow his car up, Robles said.
Blow his car up, Sloan said, repeating the phrase as though he were astonished.
I wasjoking. I really wasId never hurt anyone, it was just all bullshit. We went back and forth about ways to kill him, all ridiculous, like sci-fi stuff, and then… we stopped.
Stopped? Sherrills eyebrows went up.
Yeah. It never came up again, Robles said. It was like, a couple of nights, then we wore the subject out, and it never came up.
Until somebody killed him, Lucas said.
Why didnt you tell me this Saturday? asked Sloan.
Because I didnt think there was any chance shed done it. And if she hadnt done it, talking about it could only get me in trouble. So I wanted to check with her. I came back, and I couldnt find her online, and I didnt know where she lived. Shes unlisted, and Id only gotten together with her at Uncle Tonys. Thats a bar…
We know, Sherrill said. The one with the porno on computers.
Porno? You mean the TV Three story? That was all bullshit…
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Lucas said. Go ahead.
Anyway, when I did find her, yesterday, I asked her if shed heard about it, and she said yeah, shed done it, Robles said.
But you dont believe her.
No. Shes never fired a gun. She doesnt even go outside, for Christs sake. Shes white as a sheet… she doesnt know about walking around in the woods. Her old mans got something wrong with his bowel or something and never worked, and they never went anywhere when she was growing up. She said she shot him with her fathers. 3030, and I bet she doesnt even know what a. 3030 looks like or that he has one.
Could be the right kind of rifle, Lucas said. Themedical examiner says Kresge was killed with a largecaliber rifle, which around here probably means thirtycaliber…
Thats why I decided to tell you, Robles said plaintively. Im ninety-five percent sure she didnt do itbut Im five percent not sure.
And you dont know where she lives, Sloan said.
No, but she uses her drivers license as an ID, and I figured you could get that.
Bonnie Bonet?
B-O-N-E-T, Robles said, spelling it out. Is this gonna be in the newspapers?
Sherrill looked at Lucas: Want me to pick her up?
Yeah. Do that. Get some uniforms to back you up. Call me when youve got her. When Sherrill had gone, Lucas turned back to Robles, looked at him for several seconds, then said, Well need a statement. Detective Sloan will take it.
And to Sloan: Read him his rights on the tape.
My rights? Robles threw his head back to peer at Lucas. To a lawyer? Do I need a lawyer?
Lucas shrugged: Purely up to you… Anyway, talk to Sloan. And to Sloan: Ill be down at my office. Ive got some paper to look at.
TWO FILES WERE WAITING FOR HIM: FILES ON THE PEOPLE mentioned in the anonymous letter as victims of Wilson McDonald.
Lucas took off his jacket, hung it on an antique oak coatrack, and dropped in the chair behind his desk. He picked up the first file, put his heels on his desk, and leaned back. And then let the file drop to his lap for a few seconds. He was not particularly introspective, but he was suddenly aware that the constant mental grinding in the back of his headthe grinding that had gone on for weeks, a symptom of the beast prowling around himwas fainter, barely distinguishable.
A book project, he thought: Serial Murder: A Cure for Clinical Depression? by Lucas Davenport.
GEORGE ARRIS WAS KILLED ON A RAINY NIGHT IN SEPTEMBER1984 while walking down St. Pauls Grand Avenue toward a restaurant-bar generally regarded as a meat rack. Somebody unknown had fired a single shot from a. 380 semiautomatic pistol into the back of Arriss head, and left him to die on the sidewalk.
St. Paul homicide investigators had torn the city apart looking for the killer, because Arris was only the last of four nearly identical killings, spaced about two weeks apart.
All the victims were younger white men, all relatively affluent, all walking alone at night. All of the killings were within twenty blocks of each other. A racial motivation was suspected, and black gang members were targeted as the primary suspects.
Four different pistols had been used in the killings. Two of the guns had been found.
The first, a. 22-caliber Smith amp; Wesson revolver which had been used in the second killing, was found by a city work crew trying to open a clogged storm sewer a halfmile from the killing. That set off a general inspection of storm sewers, and the second pistol, a. 25-caliber semiauto, was found three blocks from the. 22. Neither of the other two pistols was found.
The lead detective on the case was George Jellman.
JELLMAN WAS RETIRED, AND IT TOOK TWO PHONE calls to locate him. Hes out back, his wife shouted. Ill go get him. She must have been shouting. Lucas mused, because they lived in Florida, which was a long way from Minnesota.
Jellman came to the phone a second later: Davenport, you miserable piece of shit. I never thought Id hear from you again.
How are you, Jelly?
Well, Im looking out at my backyard, he said.
There are two palm trees and two orange trees and a lime treeDenise makes key lime pie from it. Its just a bit shy of eighty degrees right now, and I can smell the ocean. About an hour from now, Ill be hitting golf balls on the greenest golf course you ever saw in your life… Hows it up there?
Cool, but nice.
Right. Nice in Minnesota means the snows not over your boots yet. .. So whats happening?
You remember a bunch of killings you handled back in 84, four guys shot in the back of the head?
Oh, hell, yes, Jellman said. Never got the guys who did it.
Im interested in the last oneGeorge Arris.
Why him?
We got an anonymous letter with the name of the supposed killer.
I bet it aint no goddamn Vice Lord, Jellman said.
Why is that?
Is it? A Vice Lord?
No. Its a bank vice president.
Hah. I knew it. Trust the letter, Lucasif it was a bullshitter, he wouldve said it was a Vice Lord, cause that was on all the media. The Vice Lords did the other three, but that fourth one, that was a copycat.
Are you sure?
Pretty sure. That was the word on the street, though nobody had any names for us. But the word was, the fourth one came out of the blue. That the Vice Lords whod done the shooting had split for Chicago before the fourth one ever happened.
So it was pretty much street talk about the fourth one.
There was something else toothe first three were all up there in the colored section. But the last guy was down on Grand Avenue. You look on a map, it looks pretty close, but you dont see many blacks over there. Not walking on the streetespecially not then, not as tight as everybody was about the first three shootings. And theres WyliesMarket used to be over there. You remember Wylies?
Sure.
They had a surveillance camera in the back of the store, looking at the cashiers cage and the front door, get peoples faces coming in. Anyway, on the film, you can see the street through the window, and we picked out Arris strolling down the street, just a minute or so before he was shot. But there werent any blacks, either before or after.
Huh. Is the tape still around?
Yeah, someplace. Since the case is still open… Did you ever look at the people around Arris? Friends and coworkers?
Oh, sure. Went over to that bank where he worked, came up empty. Hed been dating a few women, but hadnt had anything serious in a couple of years. All he did was work: thats what everybody said. Wasnt interested in pussy, gambling, booze. Just interested in work.
Huh. And he was dead when they found him.
Yup. Never knew what hit him. Probably never saw it coming. Entry wound right below the bump on the back of his head, exit wound right between his eyes.
Exit wound? So howd you know it was a. 380was there a shell?
Yeah, we found it in the grass next to the curb. There was a partial print, but really partialnot enough even to start looking for a match.
Slug fragments?
Yeah, one piece. Hollow point of some kind, nothing that would identify a pistol.
Not much of anything, then.
Nope. Listen, if you want, Ill call Doug Skelly over in St. Paul and get him to run down that tape for you.
Thanks, Jelly. Wish you were still on the job.
Wish I was too, man. I hate this fuckin place.
THE FILE ON ANDREW INGALL CONSISTED OF ONE sheet: His boat had been reported missing on Superior ona clear, fine day with good sailing winds. The Coast Guard, the Civil Air Patrol, and the local sheriffs departments in adjacent Minnesota and Wisconsin counties had done a search. Nothing was ever found, not even a life jacket.
An address and phone number were listed in the town of North Oaks. Lucas punched the number in, got an answering machine, a womans voice. He hung up, dialed Dispatch, had them check the cross-reference index for numbers on both sides of that address, dialed the first one.
Hello? Another woman.
Yes, my name is Lucas Davenport and Im with the Minneapolis Police Department. Im trying to get in touch with Annette Ingall, but all I get at her home is an answering machine.
Oh my God, nothing happened to Toby?
No, no, I just need to talk to her about her husband. Do you know if she works? Where I could call her?
Well, she has a bridal wear boutique downtown…
THE BRIDAL SHOP WAS A BRISK TEN-MINUTE WALK from City Hall, among a cluster of boutiques on Marquette Avenue. Annette Ingall was a tall woman with auburn hair and pale blue eyes; motherly, Lucas thought later, though she was probably five years younger than he was. She did a smiling double take when he walked into the store, and when a clerk came over and he asked for her, she said, That would be me. Can I help you?
He stepped closer and pitched his voice down: I need to talk to you privately for a moment. Im with the Minneapolis Police Departmentnothing happened with your boy, its a completely different matter.
Her hand went to her throat as the smile died on her face. How do you know about my son?
Because I called one of your neighbors to find you, and she said, Oh my God, nothing happened to Toby?
Oh. Okay. The smile flickered back. Why dont you come back to my office.
Ingall led the way through a door into the back of thestore, to a small office cubicle that stuck out into a stockstorage area. There were two chairs inside, and she sat behind her desk and crossed her legs.
Lucas sat down and said, Im investigating the death of Daniel Kresge.
Yes? I read about it.
Lucas picked up the tone. You didnt like him?
No. Not especially. He once made a pretty heavy pass at me, when he and his wife were still together. This was after my husband died, and I was feeling pretty vulnerable.
Lucas nodded: Im actually here because I want to know more about your husband. I have an abstract of a Douglas County file about his disappearance, but theres not much in it.
There wasnt much to say. Her lower lip trembled as she said it; she was twisting a ring on her finger, and Lucas noticed that it was a wedding ring. He just got on the boat and vanished.
But there isnt any doubt that the boat sank? Lucas asked.
What? Have you found out something?
No-no-no. Just… your tone of voice.
Well… Again, the trembling lip. Its been almost impossible to put this behind me, because nothing was ever found. No body, no boat debris, nothing. After he disappeared, all kinds of inspectors went to the bank, and they came and questioned me to make sure he hadnt taken off with some money. I mean, every time I get a phone call at home that Im not expecting, I halfway think its going to be his voice.
But you really think the boat sank.
Yes. She nodded firmly. In fact, I even think I know what happened. Do you sail, Mr. Davenport?
I have. Im not particularly good at it. Weather was a sailing fanatic, as her father had been, and theyd gone out almost every warm weekend, and for a long two weeks in the Caribbean.
When a boat goes down, theres almost always lots of debris, Ingall said. You know the enormous amount of stuff sailors carry around with thembooks and logs and guides and all kinds of paper. Andy had even more of it than most people. Business papers and references and so on. Plus the boat had a lot of wood. So if it had blown up, like some people thought, theyd have foundsomething. But they didnt find anything. So you know what I think?
What?
What I think is, it was a cool day, and Andy had the autopilot on and hed gone below. While he was down there… the keel fell off, she said.
The keel?
Yes. The keel on our boat was about four thousand pounds of lead, held in place with four huge steel bolts. You normally couldnt even see the bolts, without pulling up parts of the solethe flooring.
Yeah. He knew what a sole was.
Anyway, I think the nuts worked off the bolts, from vibration, and then, with some sudden strain, the keel simply fell off, she said. If that happened, the boat would have turned turtle just instantly, and water would have started pouring down the companionway and the whole thing would have sunk in a minute or two. There are cases known like this. Theyre rare, but it sort of explains everything. There wouldnt have been time for life jackets or anything, and the inflow of water would have kept everything inside. It wouldve been just… glug.
But thats a rare thing.
Yesbut.
But.
We kept the boat in Superior, and theres this old guy up there who pretty much lives on his boat. Not technically, because they dont allow that, but hes around day and night. When I was up there during the search, he told me that Andyd had somebody working on the boat the night before he disappeared. He didnt pay much attention, but he said hed noticed the guy had pulled up the sole andstuck it in the cockpit, out of the way of whatever he was doing. He assumed the guy was working on the plumbing, but he could have been working on the bolts. Maybe there was something wrong with them. Or maybe he did something that messed them up.
Huh. Was your husband there that day? When the work was being done?
No, not that day.
Did he often hire people to do work when he wasnt there?
From time to time. I mean, good boat-repair people are like plumbers or electricians. Theyll schedule you for some work, but something happens on another job and it gets stretched out, or they get free earlier than they think. So lots of times wed just give them the key and the go-ahead to do the work whenever they could get there.
Did you know that work was being done?
No. But sometimes he didnt tell me. The boat was more Andys thing than mine.
Did anybody ever talk to the guy who did the work?
Nope. We looked around, but nobody ever figured out who it was. We had a guy wed used quite a bit, but he said he didnt know anything about it. And nobody ever really saw the guy doing the work. He did it in the evening, mostly after dark. And he wasnt there very longso that made me think it wasnt the plumbing, which would take a while. The only thing I could think of that youd pull up the sole for, and wouldnt take long, would be the bolts.
Look, Lucas said, I dont want to upset you, but… was there any possibility of suicide?
No. She said it positively.
Lucas said, Okay.
Andy was a happy guy, she said. He was doing great in his job, he was up for a promotion, we were talking about putting a big garden in behind the house, we were talking about another child. I was supposed to bring Toby up to the islands the next day, and we were all going sailing, and Toby was all excited… No. He didnt commitsuicide. And he didnt take off with any money or anything. He was just a heck of a good guy and well adjusted and his folks are nice and my folks liked him and they liked him at the bank…
This promotion, Lucas said. Who got it? After he died.
Well… Wilson McDonald.
Would Andy have gotten the promotion if he hadnt died? For sure?
Hethought so. He said hed aced Wilson out of the slot. I mean, its never for sure until its done, and Wilson has all those family connections… Why?
Were just trying to run down all possibilities, Lucas said vaguely.
She was too smart for that. One hand went to her throat and she leaned toward him and said, Oh my God, do you think Wilson McDonald killed Andy to get promoted, and then shot Dan Kresge? He got Dans job, didnt he?
Temporarily. There seems to be some doubt about it in the long run
…
She pointed a finger at him, excited: Do you know about George Arris?
Yes…
Wilson gothispromotion too.
I havent been able to establish that. Not clearly. Believe me, George would have gotten the job. My God, this never occurred to me, she said. She pushed the palm of her hand against her forehead. How could I have missed it? Its so obvious.
Theres probably nothing to it, Lucas said.
Oh, bull… feathers, Mr. Davenport. Three people dead and Wilson gets all the promotions? My God, he murdered Andy!
No-no-no. Theres no evidence of that at all.
Then whyd you bring it up?
Because Im checking everything…
Wilson McDonald, she marveled. Who wouldve thought.
Please, Mrs. Ingall…
He halfheartedly tried to talk her out of the sudden conviction that Wilson McDonald had killed her husband; then said goodbye.
He was out the door and on the sidewalk when she called after him: Mr. Davenport?
Yes? He turned and she came down the walk to him.
If this was murderjust say it was, that somebody loosened up the bolts on the keel, okay? They couldnt have taken them all the way off, because then the only thing that would be holding it on would be some adhesive and sealer. Then, with a good bump, the keel might have fallen off in the harbor.
Yeah?
So they had to leave the bolts partway on, expecting them to work off, which they eventually would have. But they couldnt knowwhen. Toby and I usually went up with Andy, so whoever it was… wasnt just killing Andy, she said. If Andyd made the islands, wed have been on the boat the next day, and it mightve fallen off with us aboard. This guy, whoever it ishe was willing to kill all three of us.
LUCAS HAD LAST SEEN SHERRILL WHEN SHE LEFT TO pick up Bonnie Bonet, Robless friend. When he got back, Sherrill and a uniformed cop were marching a young woman down the hall, her hands cuffed behind her back. Lucas caught up with them, said, Bonet?
Yeah, Sherrill said.
Bonet snarled, Who the fuck are you?
Sit her down in Homicide, Lucas said. Ill be there in a minute.
She wants an attorney, Sherrill said.
Got any money? Lucas asked.
Bonet shook her head defiantly. No. You gotta appoint one.
Lucas nodded: So call the public defender, he told Sherrill. Ill be right back.
He dumped his coat and the file on Ingall in his office, and made a quick call: I want everything we can find on Wilson McDonald. Everything.
BACK AT HOMICIDE, BONET WAS SITTING NEXT TO Sherrill's desk, while the uniformed cop lounged at another desk between her and the door. Shed been uncuffed and Sherrill was scratching notes on a legal pad.
When Lucas walked in, Bonet looked up and said, I want the attorney. Im not answering any questions without an attorney.
I called. Somebodys walking over, Sherrill said.
Im not going to ask you a question, Ms. Bonet, Lucas said. Im gonna make a little speech. Mr. Robles says you told him you shot Daniel Kresge because you thought Kresge was setting up a bank merger and your mother would lose her job. But he says he really doesnt think you shot him, that youre making a grandstand play, because you like the attention. For the experience of it. To fuck us over. Do you know the first thing that will happen when the word of your arrest gets out? The banks gonna fire your mother.
Bonet, naturally pale, went a shade paler. They cant do that. Thats discrimination…
Lucas was shaking his head: No. Theres no union at the bank. They can fire her f or any reason they want, as long as the firing isnt illegalbecause of race or religion or like that. If her daughter is accused of murdering the bank president on her behalf… you think thats not a reason? Ill tell you what: Your mothers gonna be on the sidewalk in about half an hour, as soon as theStar-Tribuneguy checks out the days arrest reports. And they check every couple of hours.
Bonet looked at Sherrill, who nodded, then back at Lucas. But I didnt shoot him, she blurted.
Sherrill dropped her pencil and said, Oh, shit.
Lucas said, Again, Im not going to ask you any questions, but Ill say this: If theres anything that would provethat you didnt shoot him, this would be a good time to mention it.
Friday night, Bonet said. I was at a friends house until almost four in the morning, we were on-line, gaming.
How many people? Lucas asked.
Four… three besides me.
Shed still have time to drive up there, Lucas said.
Itd be tight, Sherrill said.
But she could make it, Lucas said.
I didnt shoot anybody, Bonet wailed. I dont even know where the asshole lived.
You were never up there?
Never. Why would I be?
After you left your friends, you went right home? Did you see anybody who knew you?
No… Well, I bought some Pepsi at the gas station, but they dont know me there. Maybe theyd remember me.
What gas station?
Its an Amoco down off 494, like 494 and France.
Did you pay with cash or a credit card?
Credit card! Her face brightened. The goddamn credit slip has the time and location on it. And it comes on my statementI bet you can call Amoco and find out.
Lucas nodded and said, Whyn the hell did you tell Robles that you shot McDonald?
Just to jerk his chain, Bonet said. He called me up and he pretended to be all freaking out and worried, and the next thing I know, hes turned me in.
He pretended to be freaking out?
Yeah. Pretended. Hes a cold fish, Bonet said. Ill tell you what, I wouldnt be surprised if he did it, and he deliberately set me up with that talk on the net about how to kill McDonald. I mean, he started it, I didnt. And then he fed me to you.
Why do you think he might have done it? Sherrill asked.
Because of the way he plays with guns all the time, she said. I think if you pretend to be killing people long enough, pretty soon you want to try it. Dont you think?
Lucass and Sherrills eyes locked: theyd both killed people in gunfights. I dont know, Lucas said finally. Maybe.
Sherrill said, What do you mean, plays with guns? Hes always out shooting. You know, rifles and pistols and sometimes he goes out to Wyoming and shoots prairie dogs. He calls them prairie rats. Or prairie pups. And he does that whole paintball thing. You know, runs around in the woods in camouflage clothes with other guys and they shoot each other.
Robles, Lucas said.
Yeah. He doesnt come off that way, does he?
Have you ever done the paintball thing with him?
Nohe doesnt even know that I know about it. But I know a friend of his, and he saw us together, and he told me. I thought it was weird.
Huh. Lucas rubbed his chin, then looked at Sherrill. What do you think?
I think I should check with Amoco, Sherrill said. And maybe start talking to people about Robles.
Lucas pointed a finger at Bonet: If this checks out, well forget about it. But you keep your mouth shut about what happened. And what you told us. You dont talk to Robles about it, or anyone else. And remember whats at stake here. Im talking about mom.
Okay, she said, solemnly. A tear started in one eye.
Okay, Lucas said. And to Sherrill: Call Amoco.
ON THE WAY BACK TO HIS OFFICE, LUCAS BUMPEDinto an assistant public defender heading toward Homicide. She was carrying two briefcases, apparently full of briefs, which bumped alternately against her thighs as she walked. Her hair stood out from her round face in an electrocution halo. Her face was drawn with lack of sleep. on your way to see marcy sherrill? lucas asked.
She stopped and said, Yeah. But if youre not done with the rubber hoses, I could wait. Maybe catch a nap.
Were all done. We beat the truth out of her and shes innocent, Lucas said. Were turning her loose in a few minutes.
Really? The lawyer yawned and said, God, Ive gone to bed with men whove said less pleasant things to me.
Yeah, well… sleep tight.
Wont let the bedbugs bite, she said with another yawn, and humped the briefcases on down the hall toward Homicide. Had to see for herself.
LUCAS SAT IN HIS OFFICE, HIS FEET ON HIS DESK, AND added up the accusations. After a while he picked up the phone and called Sherrill. All done?
Yeah. She checked out with Amoco. Shes gotta do some paperwork, then shes outa here.
Whos loose? Besides you.
Tom Black is sitting in a corner, readingPlaygirl, she said. From somewhere behind her, her regular partner shouted, I am not. Black was gay, but still mostly in the closet.
Why dont you guys come on down? Ill tell you about it, Lucas said.
Almost time to quit.
Itll take ten minutes, and we wont do anything until tomorrow.
BLACK, PRETENDING TO BE DISGRUNTLED, SLUMPED in one of Lucass two visitors chairs, while Sherrill looked out the window at the street.
Lucas was saying,… if somebody accused, say, Sloan of deliberately setting out to murder somebody, and actually doing it, Id say, Nope, he couldnt do that. The idea might occur to him, but someplace along the way, he just wouldnt do it.
So? Sherrill asked.
Weve got too many people to worry about, all of them with motives. So what we do is, we go around to people who know them well, and ask for a confidential assessment. Could they do it? Would they do it? What would have to be on the line for them to do it?
Black cocked his head to one side and thought about it for a moment: Thats weird.
And it could ship us off in a completely wrong direction, Sherrill said. Youve already decided Bone didnt do it, because you like him.
No, Lucas said, shaking his head. I do like him, but I havent decided anything about him.
But if you like him, youre sort of predisposed not to believe bad stuff.
Black ticked a finger at her: Psychobabble, he said.
Sorry, she said. Then, What about ODell and the kaffiyeh? Whos gonna check that?
Ill ask her, Lucas said.
Tomorrow?
Yeah. He yawned. Tomorrow.