She was right, of course. It looked like there was very little we could do to get Kyle back intact. Because with all the luck in the world, even my dazzling intellect couldn’t possibly lead us to him before the work started. And then—how long could Kyle hold out? Presumably he’d had some sort of training in dealing with this sort of thing, and he knew what was coming, so—

But wait a moment. I closed my eyes and tried to think about it. Dr. Danco would know that Kyle was a pro. And as I had already told Deborah, the whole purpose was to shatter the victim into screaming unfixable pieces. Therefore . . .

I opened my eyes. Deb, I said. She looked at me. I am in the rare position of having some hope to offer.

Spill it, she said.

This is only a guess, I said. But I think Dr. Demented will probably keep Kyle around for a while, without working on him.

She frowned. Why would he do that?

To make it last longer, and to soften him up. Kyle knows what’s coming. He’s braced for it. But now, imagine he’s just left lying in the dark, tied up, so his imagination goes to work. And so I think maybe, I added as it occurred to me, there’s another victim ahead of him. The guy who’s missing. So Kyle hears it—the saws and scalpels, the moans and whispers. He even smells it, knows it’s coming but doesn’t know when. He’ll be half crazy before he even loses a toenail.

Jesus, she said. That’s your version of hope?

Absolutely. It gives us a little extra time to find him.

Jesus, she said again.

I could be wrong, I said.

She looked back out the window. Don’t be wrong, Dex. Not this time, she said.

I shook my head. This was going to be pure drudgery, no fun at all. I could only think of two things to try, and neither of them were possible until the morning. I glanced around for a clock. According to the VCR, it was 12:00. 12:00. 12:00. Do you have a clock? I asked.

Deborah frowned. What do you want a clock for?

To find out what time it is, I said. I think that’s the usual purpose.

What the hell difference does that make? she demanded.

Deborah. There is very little to go on here. We will have to go back and do all the routine stuff that Chutsky pulled the department away from. Luckily, we can use your badge to barge around and ask questions. But we will have to wait until morning.

Shit, she said. I hate waiting.

There there, I said. Deborah gave me a very sour look, but didn’t say anything.