Harry shook his head. More important. You have to be sure before you start that this person really deserves it. I can’t tell you the number of times I knew somebody was guilty and I had to let them go. To have the bastard look at you and smirk, and you know and he knows, but you have to hold the door for him and let him go— He clenched his jaw and tapped a fist on the picnic table. You won’t have to. BUT . . . you have to be sure. Dead sure, Dexter. And even if you’re absolutely positive— He held his hand up in the air, palm facing me. Get some proof. It doesn’t have to hold up in court, thank God. He gave a small and bitter laugh. You’d never get anywhere. But you need proof, Dexter. That’s the most important thing. He tapped the table with his knuckle. You have to have proof. And even then—

He stopped, an uncharacteristic Harry pause, and I waited, knowing something difficult was coming. Sometimes even then, you let them go. No matter how much they deserve it. If they’re too . . . conspicuous, for example. If it would raise too much attention, let it go.

____

Well, there it was. As always, Harry had the answer for me. Whenever I was unsure, I could hear Harry whispering in my ear. I was sure, but I had no proof that Doakes was anything except a very angry and suspicious cop, and chopping up a cop was certainly the sort of thing the city got indignant about. After the recent untimely demise of Detective LaGuerta, the police hierarchy would almost certainly be a little sensitive about a second cop going out in the same way.

No matter how necessary it seemed, Doakes was out of bounds for me. I could look out the window at the maroon Taurus nosed under a tree, but I could do nothing about it except wish for some other solution to spontaneously arise—for example, a piano falling on his head. Sadly enough, I was left hoping for luck.

But there was no luck tonight for poor Disappointed Dexter, and lately there had been a tragic lack of falling pianos in the Miami area. So here I was in my little hovel, pacing the floor with frustration, and every time I casually peeked out the window, there was the Taurus parked across the way. The memory of what I had been so happily contemplating only an hour ago pounded in my head. Can Dexter come out and play? Alas, no, dear Dark Passenger. Dexter is in time-out.