Deborah turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "Kafka?" she said.
"He thinks he's a cockroach," I told her.

"I'm just a dumb cop, Jerry," she said. "I don't know about Kafka. But I know solid evidence when I see it. And you know what, Jerry? I'm seeing it all over your apartment."

"But I didn't do anything," he pleaded.
"Okay," said Deborah with a shrug. "Then help me out here. How did all that stuff get into your place?" "Wilkins did it," he said, and he looked surprised, as if someone else had said it.
"Wilkins?" Deborah said, looking at me.
"The professor in the office next door?" I said.
"Yes, that's right," Halpern said, suddenly gathering steam and leaning forward. "It was Wilkins-it had to be."

"Wilkins did it," Deborah said. "He put on your clothes, killed the girls, and then put the clothes back in your apartment."

"Yes, that's right."
"Why would he do that?"
"We're both up for tenure," he said. "Only one of us will get it."

Deborah stared at him as if he had suggested dancing naked. "Tenure," she said at last, and there was wonder in her voice.

"That's right," he said defensively. "It's the most important moment in any academic career." "Important enough to kill somebody?" I asked. He just stared at a spot on the table. "It was Wilkins," he said.

Deborah stared at him for a full minute, with the expression of a fond aunt watching her favorite nephew. He looked at her for a few seconds, and then blinked, glanced down at the table, over to me, and back down to the table again. When the silence continued, he finally looked back up at Deborah. "All right, Jerry," she said. "If that's the best you can do, I think it might be time for you to call your lawyer."

He goggled at her, but seemed unable to think of anything to say, so Deborah stood up and headed for the door, and I followed.

"Got him," she said in the hallway. "That son of a bitch is cooked. Game, set, point." And she was so positively sunny that I couldn't help saying, "If it was him."

She absolutely beamed at me. "Of course it was him, Dex. Jesus, don't knock yourself. You did some great work here, and for once we got the right guy first time out." "I guess so," I said. She cocked her head to one side and stared at me, still smirking in a completely self-satisfied way. "Whatsa matter, Dex," she said. "Got your shorts in a knot about the wedding?"

"Nothing's the matter," I said. "Life on earth has never before been so completely harmonious and satisfying. I just-" And here I hesitated, because I didn't really know what I just. There was only this unshakable and unreasonable feeling that something was not right.