For some reason, it was then that I had an idea. I admit that Doakes was monumentally irritating—and it wasn’t just because he had kept me from my important personal research, although that was clearly bad enough. But now he was even critiquing my acting, which was beyond the boundaries of all civilized behavior. So perhaps irritation was the mother of invention; it doesn’t seem all that poetic, but there it is. In any case, a little door opened up in Dexter’s dusty cranium and a small light came shining out; a genuine piece of mental activity. Of course, Doakes might not think much of it, unless I could help him to see what a good idea it actually was, so I gave it a shot. I felt a little bit like Bugs Bunny trying to talk Elmer Fudd into something lethal, but the man had it coming. Sergeant Doakes, I said, Deborah is my only family, and it is not right for you to question my commitment. Particularly, I said, and I had to fight the urge to buff my fingernails, Bugs-style, since so far you have not done doodley-squat.

Whatever else he was, cold killer and all, Sergeant Doakes was apparently still capable of feeling emotion. Perhaps that was the big difference between us, the reason he tried to keep his white hat so firmly cemented to his head and fight against what should have been his own side. In any case, I could see a surge of anger flicker across his face, and deep down inside there was an almost audible growl from his interior shadow. Doodley-squat, he said. That’s good, too.

Doodley-squat, I said firmly. Deborah and I have done all the legwork and taken all the risks, and you know it.

For just a moment his jaw muscles popped straight out as if they were going to leap out of his face and strangle me, and the muted interior growl surged into a roar that echoed down to my Dark Passenger, which sat up and answered back, and we stood like that, our two giant shadows flexing and facing off invisibly in front of us.

Quite possibly, there might have been ripped flesh and pools of blood in the street if a squad car hadn’t chosen that moment to screech to a halt beside us and interrupt. A young cop jumped out and Doakes reflexively took out his badge and held it toward them without looking away from me. He made a shooing motion with his other hand, and the cop backed off and stuck his head into the car to consult with his partner.

All right, Sergeant Doakes said to me, you got something in mind?

It wasn’t really perfect. Bugs Bunny would have made him think of it himself, but it was good enough. As a matter of fact, I said, I do have an idea. But it’s a little risky.