It seemed like serving cucumber sandwiches and tea to Godzilla.

But as I stammered for a reply, trying to think of something that was neither outraged denial nor hysterical laughter, I actually caught myself thinking that it was not a bad idea. It was, in fact, a very good idea that would mesh perfectly with the plan to make Cody fit in with human children. And so, caught halfway between irritated denial and enthusiastic acceptance, I quite distinctly said, “Hi didda yuh-kay”

“Dexter, are you all right?” Rita said.

I, uh, you caught me by surprise” I said. “I'm in the middle of something. But I think it's a great idea.”

“Really? You really do?” she said.

“Absolutely” I said. “It's the perfect thing for him.” I was hoping you'd say so,” she said. “But then I thought, I don't know. What if -1 mean, you really do think so?” I really did, and eventually I made her believe me. But it took several minutes, since Rita is able to speak without breathing and, quite often, without finishing a sentence, so that she got out fifteen or twenty disconnected words for every one of mine.

By the time I finally persuaded her and hung up, it was slightly darker outside, but unfortunately much lighter inside me. The opening notes of “Dexter's Dance Suite” were muted now, some of the rising urgency blurred by the soundtrack of Rita's call. Still, it would come back, I was quite sure.

In the meantime, just to look busy, I called Chutsky.

“Hey, buddy” he said. “She opened her eyes again a few minutes ago. The doctors think she's starting to come around a little bit.”

“That's wonderful” I said. “I'm coming by a little later. I just have some loose ends to take care of.”

“Some of your people have been coming by to say hi” he said.

“Do you know a guy named Israel Salguero?” A bicycle went by me in the street. The rider thumped my side mirror and went on past. I know him” I said. “Was he there?”

“Yeah” said Chutsky. “He was here.” Chutsky was silent, as if waiting for me to say something. I couldn't think of much, so finally he said, “Something about the guy”

“He knew our father” I said.

“Uh-huh” he said. “Something else.”

“Um” I said. “He's from Internal Affairs. He's investigating Deborah's behavior in this whole thing.” Chutsky was silent for a moment. “Her behavior?” he said at last.

“Yes” I said.

“She got stabbed.”

“The lawyer said it was self-defense” I said.

“Son of a bitch” he said.

“I'm sure there's nothing to worry about” I said. “It's just regulations, he has to investigate.”

“Son of a goddamn bitch,” Chustky said. “And he comes around here? With her in a fucking coma?”