Milo said, “Professor, we really do appreciate your coming forward, most people would have taken the easy way out. Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

“No, sir,” said Holman. “Now you’re going to leave and I’m going to stay here and watch the ocean.”

Milo gunned the unmarked past the marsh, continued east on Culver. “What just happened? Helpful, self-demeaning citizen or smart guy playing with us?”

“Maybe neither,” I said.

“Then what?”

“Professor Holman found a way to unload a whole lot of pent-up misery while feeling momentarily heroic.”

“Free therapy? So who bills him, you or me?”

“You can have it,” I said.

“Poor bastard. But he did just admit to being a chronic stalker, which fits our jealousy scenario. A bunch of middle-aged lotharios with his wife is one thing, Backer’s youth and vitality pushed him over the edge, he kept churning it, over and over, the rage didn’t fade so he hired a hit man. Who he was able to tip off about Borodi being a nookie-spot for Backer.”

“Then why call for a meet where he gives himself a motive and admits he resented Backer?”

“He’s an intellectual, Alex, thinks he’s smarter than us. A linguist, to boot—what do those guys do? Manipulate language. But maybe he just screwed himself by giving me grounds for a warrant on his financials.”

He phoned John Nguyen, asked the deputy D.A. what he thought. Nguyen said, “Iffy at best but you can try. Who do you have in mind?”

Milo said, “Judge Ferencz turned me down, any suggestions?”

“Not really.”

“What about Judge Hawkins, John?”

“Hawkins died last month.”

“Damn.”

Nguyen said, “Your warmhearted sympathy toward his loved ones is overwhelming. If you want, I can ask around.”

“Thanks, John.”

“I’m talking a few calls, not worth a thanks.”

At Lincoln, Milo switched the police radio to felony Muzak. Too early for waves of after-dark violence but plenty of minor-league infractions to keep uniforms busy.

I said, “If Holman’s not the killer, he still gave you something useful: Backer and Brigid were at Borodi two months ago, lending support for a long-term relationship and suggesting it was a habitual spot for them. Maybe she’s using a false identity out of self-defense, not criminality. As in running from a rabidly jealous ex.”

“Meaning don’t lose sight of her as the prime victim, okay, time for Hal again.”

“Who exactly is he?”

“Homeland Security, owes me more than one favor.” Punch punch punch, voice mail. His second message was more detailed, click. “Holman doesn’t shake out dirty, there’s still the fact that Brigid was snooping in Masterson’s files and scoping out Borodi by herself.”

I said, “The elusive DSD Inc.”

“Whom everyone seems to think are Arabs and that worries me. All I need is some jealous emir as a prime suspect.”