“I’m sorry, sir.”

Milo’s big hand landed on Bryczinski’s scrawny shoulder. “Doyle, if there’s something you want to tell me, now’s the time to help yourself.”

“What do I need help with?”

“Think about it, Doyle.”

“I’m thinking I don’t need help.”

“Why’d you go back?”

“It’s my place, that’s all.”

“Your place?”

“My job. I know it better than anyone.”

“Exactly,” said Milo.

“Huh?”

“What strikes me, Doyle, is that doing a murder there would be tough for someone who wasn’t familiar with the place. It gets real dark at night, that rear staircase is hidden away. You’d have to know where to find it, be super-careful walking up those wooden stairs without being heard. Though your shoes do look pretty quiet.”

“They’re okay. Only I never did nothing. And no matter any shoes, I’da been heard.”

“Why?”

“My leg’s fucked up, it drags.”

“Even with those quiet shoes?”

“They got soft soles,” said Bryczinski, “but also steel arches, real heavy to lift.”

Milo eyed the soda can. “If you’re thirsty, feel free.”

“I’m okay.”

“Let’s go back to the night of the murders and where you were.”

“Zactly what I told you.”

“Sleeping and taking care of your mother.”

“Buying the diapers for my mom. This time I got the receipt.” Pulling a scrap from his shirt pocket. “Nine forty-eight, like I told you, I’m at the CVS.”

Milo examined the date. “You found the receipt because you’ve been working on an alibi, Doyle?”

“You asked me all those questions the first time,” said Bryczinski. “So I looked for the receipt. Now you got it.”

Milo waved the paper. “This is okay, as far as it goes, Doyle, but it really doesn’t mean much. You coulda gone home, driven back.”

“Maybe coulda, but didn’t.” Bryczinski’s eyes remained calm.

“Monte,” said Milo.

“What?”

“Who’s Monte, Doyle?”

“Ain’t that a card game?”

“It’s also a man’s name.”

“Not any man I know.”

“Why the cutters, Doyle?”

“What I said, an emergency.”

“It’s a crime scene, Doyle.”

“It’s a crime scene now, but it’s not gonna be a crime scene forever. You don’t give me the key to that chain, I got to get in.”

“Emergency,” said Milo. “Like the place burns down.”

“What I said was just in case the place burns down. I need the job, want to do it right.”

“You think of it as your place.”

“I know it better than anyone. They didn’t.”

“Who?”

“Those two. Look what happened to them,” said Bryczinski. Reaching for the soda can, he took a long, slow sip.

“Their fault?”

“I’m not saying that, I’m saying it was stupid to go in there at night.”

“What’s your theory about the murders, Doyle?”