“I’d rather we talk somewhere we could sit down. I promise it won’t take long.”

An odor came off him of some grooming product from a bygone era; an aftershave or deodorant I’d only ever smelled in barbershops that cut the thinning hair of old men.

“I’m going to the range with or without you. So if you want to have a conversation, that’s your choice.” He worked hard to mimic a human smile. “I’ll happily let you out again.”

“All right.”

He led me through a kitchen that was as clean as a frigate’s galley, down a dust-free hall, and into what would have been the entryway if he ever received visitors through the front door. Then he stopped.

“It was the African Queen who sent you here.”

His black-framed glasses held my attention. There was a smudge, a thumbprint, on the left lens.

“I’m sorry?”

“The protector of the late professor’s memory. Mariëtte Chamberlain. Don’t bother lying. I know she did. What’s she saying about me now? That I’m a crazed crackpot?”

There seemed no point in being cagey when he could see through my lies. “She didn’t use that particular word.”

He grinned like he’d won five dollars on a scratch card. “You’d think, given her personal history, what happened to her family in Rhodesia, she’d want to prepare herself. She lived through her own Boogaloo when she was younger. But some people don’t have brains to pound sand into a rathole.”

The house had the drafty feel of a place that had sat on the market so long the Realtor had stopped showing it.

Jewett caught me surveying the room with my peripheral vision and showed his teeth again. “I suppose you want to talk about the day Eben died. There’s no other reason for another LEO to show up on my doorstep.”

“I realize you’ve been over it many times.”

“And each time, I’ve told the truth. My story hasn’t changed. But I accept I’m an easy target.”

“For what?”

“Suspicion. Harassment. Censure by TPTB.”

“TPTB?”

“‘The Powers That Be.’ What happened to Lieutenant LePeau?” he asked, resting his hands on his thin hips.

“Lieutenant Rivard is no longer with the Warden Service.”

“I didn’t think it was possible to fire a state employee. You people are dug into the body politic tighter than ticks.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather sit down for this conversation?”

“We’re going to the range. But first, I’ve got to water my horse.”

He correctly interpreted my vacant expression as not understanding.

“I need to take a piss. Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got mines hidden in the floor. Step on the wrong flagstone and ka-boom.”