“Okay, okay. After Dale stopped coming in, I mentioned to another volunteer that I’d tried to call him, got a disconnected number, was worried if he was okay. This other person said, ‘Oh, he’s fine, just saw him over at the Tadich Grill a couple of nights ago.’ That’s an old restaurant in San Francisco. I said, ‘Well that’s good, at least I know he’s okay. But I’m still wondering why he suddenly stopped coming to the shelter.’ And this other person laughs and says, ‘Looked to me like Dale had a sudden conversion.’ I say, ‘What you mean?’ And he tells me Dale was in a booth by himself eating a ginormous meal — huge platter of oysters, crab cocktail, then a honkin’ shoulder of lamb. That floored me. I’m a vegetarian but I eat eggs and dairy. Dale claimed to be total vegan, used to go on about the ethical and health virtues of eliminating all animal matter. And now he’s stuffing his face with flesh?”

“Faking it,” I said.

“I guess he fooled me. If it’s true. One thing he didn’t fake was his dedication to the strays. No one could’ve cared for those animals with more tenderness.”

“Bunnies.”

“Someone’s stupid idea of an Easter gift. I’m talking newborns, like big as your thumb. Dale stayed up all night nursing them with an eyedropper. When I left, he was still there.”

“Why would the other volunteer make up that story?”

“Let’s just say he and Dale weren’t chummy.”

“Could I have this person’s name, please?”

“Brian Leary, but that won’t help you, he’s gone. AIDS, six years ago.”

“Is there anyone else at the shelter who’d remember Dale?”

“No,” she said. “It was just the three of us working the midnight shift. I’m a freelance embroiderer, my hours are flexible, and Brian was a nurse at UCSF, did the three to eleven and didn’t need much sleep, so he’d come in after work.”

“What about Dale?”

“Dale spent more time at the shelter than anyone. He never mentioned any job at all. I got the feeling there was family money.”

“Why’s that?”

“The way he dressed — wrinkled clothes but good quality? The way he carried himself? I’m pretty tuned in to class distinctions.”

“What was the problem between him and Brian?”

“I really couldn’t tell you. Brian mostly worked with the cats, he loved cats. Dale and I did anything else that needed to be done.”

“Brian never said why he didn’t like Dale?”

“No, I guess it was just bad chemistry. I was in the middle — I thought they were both good guys.”

“Brian just happened to be at the Tadich Grill that night?”

“Was he stalking Dale? Not at all. Brian was out on a date, some doctor he’d been seeing.”

“Do you recall a name?”