She closed the door. Myron stared at it for a few moments. He tried to conjure up the moment Jeremy had opened it, the crooked smile on the boy's face, but already the image was hazy and fading fast.

Chapter 21.

First thing in the morning, Myron called Terese. Still no answer. He frowned at the phone. "Am I getting the big kiss-off?" he asked Win.

"Doubtful," Win said. He was reading the newspaper and wearing silk pajamas with a matching bathrobe and slippers. Give him a pipe and he could have been something Noel Coward created on an off day.

"What makes you say that?"

"Our Ms. Collins appears to be rather direct," Win said. "If you were being tossed into the dung heap, you'd know the smell."

"And then there's the part about my being irresistible to women," Myron said.

Win turned the page.

"So what's she up to?"

Win tapped his chin with his index finger. "What's the term you relationship people use? Oh, yes. Space. Perhaps she needs some space."

" 'Needing space' is usually a code phrase for the big kiss-off."

"Yes, well, whatever." Win crossed his legs. "You want me to look into it?"

"Into what?"

"What Ms. Collins might be up to."

"No."

"Fine," Win said. "Let's move on, shall we? Tell me about your encounter with the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Myron recapped the interrogation.

"So we don't know what they wanted," Win said.

"Correct."

"Not a clue?"

"Nothing. Except that they were scared."

"Curious."

Myron nodded.

Win took a sip of tea, pinky up. Oh, the horrors that pinky had witnessed, partaken in, even. They sat in Win's formal dining room and used a silver tea set. Victorian mahogany table with lion-paw feet, silver tea set, silver milk pitcher, boxes of Cap'n Crunch and some new cereal called Oreo, which is exactly what you would imagine. "Theorizing at this juncture is a waste of time. I'll make some calls, see what I can find out."

"Thanks."

"I'm still not sure I see a connection between Stan Gibbs and our blood donor."

"It's a long shot," Myron agreed.

"More than that. A newspaper columnist makes up a story about a serial kidnapper and now--what?--we think the fictional character is the donor?"

"Stan Gibbs claims the story is real."

"Does he now?"

"Yes."

Win rubbed his chin. "Pray tell, why does he not defend himself?"

"No clue."

"Presumably because he is guilty," Win said. "Man is, above all, selfish. He's into self-preservation. It's instinctive. He does not martyr himself. He cares about one thing above all else: saving his hide."

"Assuming I agree with your sunny view of human nature, wouldn't you agree that man would lie to save himself?"

"Of course," Win said.

"So armed with this pretty decent defense--the idea that the serial kidnapper copycatted the novel--why wouldn't Stan use it to defend himself, even if he was guilty of plagiarism?"

Win nodded. "I like the way you're thinking."

"Cynically, yes."