More time passed. The shapes came and went. Sometimes they whispered to Todd—odd phrases, names, and even entire paragraphs. Todd tried to catch what they whispered to him, but it was like trying to catch water. Still, he did what he could, and he wrote, and he listened, and he wrote.

Later there was a knock on the door.

“Go away,” Todd said.

“Milstead?” It was Behm’s voice.

Todd turned the light on and went to the door.

“Jesus, Milstead, you look like shit on two legs.”

“Come in.”

If Behm found the state of the room unusual, he didn’t say anything. He just pushed a heap of paper off Todd’s favorite chair and sat down without being asked. Rude, thought Todd.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch,” Behm said, although he didn’t look sorry at all.

“That’s okay,” said Todd. “I’ve been busy myself.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” said Behm.

He settled a large canvas bag at his feet.

“At first I thought you’d sent me on a wild goose chase,” he said. “I mean, all I had to go on was a name and a town.”

“Pontiac,” said Todd. “Jake Turner.”

“That’s right,” Behm said. “Glad you remembered. I’d hate to think I went to all this trouble and you forgot about me.”

“I’m very busy,” said Todd. “Can we—”

“Sorry,” Behm said. “You’re going to have to set aside a few minutes in your packed schedule. I got a lot to tell you.”

“I’ll get the whiskey,” said Todd.

Behm took the smeared glass Todd offered him, drained its contents and said, “So first of all, I did the usual offices. I got the phone books, I got the street directories. I went to the library. I went to the newspaper library. And nothing. Nobody in Pontiac, Michigan was ever called Jake Turner. Which you’d think wouldn’t be the case. Even if it wasn’t our guy, there’s got to be at least one Jake Turner in town.”

“I guess,” said Todd.

“Then I got in the car, and I went to Pontiac,” said Behm. “It’s not one of the great towns, believe me. Detroit up the road and there’s nothing happening there anymore. And I asked around. I called up Turners in the phone book and told them I was a friend of Jake’s and had they seen him lately. I asked in bars. I spoke to librarians. That kind of thing.

“Then I had an idea. I thought instead of looking for the guy, I’d look for the book.”

Todd tensed. “The book?” he said.

“Yeah. You told me he was a writer. That was the third piece of information I had, and I almost forgot about it. So I went into a secondhand bookstore and I asked the guy behind the counter if he’d heard of Jake Turner.”