“Yes” I said, and then, showing that my giant brain was at last swimming back to the controls, I anticipated the awkward question and said, “My wife was sure that's him, and so were the kids.” Recht nodded, apparently unable to take her eyes off Weiss. “All right” she said. I couldn't tell what that meant, but it seemed like an encouraging sign. I hoped it meant that the FBI would lose interest in me now. “What about him?” Recht said, nodding toward the back of the exhibit where the EMS guys were finishing their examination of Coulter.

“Detective Coulter got here before me” I said.

Recht nodded. “That's what the guy on the door says” she said, and the fact that she had asked about that was not terribly comforting, so I decided that a few careful dance steps might be called for.

“Detective Coulter” I said carefully, as if fighting for control and I have to admit that the rasp remaining in my voice from the noose was very effective —“He got here first. Before I could ... I think he —he gave his life to save Rita.” I thought that sniffling might be overkill so I held back, but even I was impressed with the sound of the manly emotion in my voice.

Alas, Special Agent Recht was not. She looked again at Coulter's body, and at Weiss's, and then at me. “Mr Morgan” she said, and there was official doubt in her voice. But then she just shook her head and turned away.

In a sane and well-ordered universe, any ruling deity would have said that was enough for one day. But things being what they are, it was not, because I turned around to leave and bumped directly into Israel Salguero.

“Detective Coulter is dead ?” he asked, sliding a step back without blinking.

“Yes” I said. “Urn, before I got here.” Salguero nodded. “Yes” he said. “That's what the witnesses said.” On the one hand, it was very good news that the witnesses said that, but on the other, it was very bad that he had already asked them, since it meant his first concern was: Where was Dexter when the bodies began to fall ? And so, thinking that some grand, emotional flummery might save the day, I looked away and said, I should have been here.”

There was such a long silence from Salguero that I finally had to turn back and look at him, if only to make sure he had not drawn his weapon and pointed it at my head. Happily for Dexter's Dome, he had not. Instead, he was just looking at me with his completely detached and emotionless gaze. I think it is probably a very good thing that you were not here” he said at last. “Good for you, and your sister, and the memory of your father.”

“Urn ...?” I said, and it is a testament to Salguero's savvy that he knew exactly what I meant.