"Through her father. He got a call from the kidnapper. I don't know what was said. He hasn't said a word since. He's catatonic. Whatever that psycho said to that girl's father put him in a padded room."

Myron felt the room shrink, the walls closing in.

"We haven't found any bodies yet, but we're pretty sure he kills them," she went on. "He kidnaps them, does Lord knows what, and makes the families suffer interminably. And you know he won't stop."

Myron kept his eyes steady. "What's your point?"

"This isn't funny."

"No," he said. "It's not. So stop playing stupid games."

She said nothing.

"I want to hear it from your mouth," Myron said. "Do you think I'm involved in this, yes or no?"

Eric Ford took this one. "No."

Kimberly Green slid back into her chair, her eyes never leaving Myron's. Eric Ford made a big hand gesture. "Please sit down."

Myron and Win moved back to their original positions.

Eric Ford said, "The novel exists. So do the passages Stan Gibbs plagiarized. The book was sent to our office anonymously--more specifically, to Special Agent Green here. We admit that we found that issue confusing at first. On the one hand, Gibbs knows about the kidnappings. On the other hand, he doesn't know everything and he clearly copied excerpts from an old, out-of-print mystery novel."

"There's an explanation," Myron said. "The kidnapper might have read the book. He might have identified with the character, become a copycat of sorts."

"We considered that possibility," Eric Ford said, "but we don't believe that's the case here."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

"Does it involve trigonometry?"

"You still think this is a joking manner?"

"You still think it's smart to play games?"

Ford closed his eyes. Green looked on edge. Peck continued scribbling notes. When Ford opened his eyes, he said, "We don't believe Stan Gibbs made up the crimes," he said. "We believe he perpetrated them."

Myron felt a pow. He looked up at Win. Nothing.

"You have some background in the criminal mind, do you not?" Ford asked.

Myron might have nodded.

"Well, here we have an old pattern with a new twist. Arsonists love to watch firemen put out the blaze. Oft-times they're even the ones who report the fire. They play the good Samaritan. Murderers love to attend the funerals of their victims. We videotape funerals. I'm sure you know this."

Myron nodded again.

"Sometimes killers make themselves part of the story." Eric Ford was gesturing a lot now, his knotted hands rising and falling as though this were a press conference in too big a room. "They claim to be witnesses. They become the innocent bystanders who happened to find the body in the brush. You're familiar with this moth-near-the-flame phenomenon, are you not?"

"Yes."