“And judging by the language in that letter, I’d say he’s well educated,” I added.

“Age,” Evelyn said, not looking up from her typing. “The style. It’s overly formal. Not so much educated as an older person trying to sound educated.”

“Educated in an era before e-mail, so he pays more attention to his word choices, composition, whatever.” I looked at the printout. “He goes overboard. Wanting to sound smart, not be dismissed as some high school dropout thug. Appearances are important. Could be self-esteem issues there, too. Proving himself, like with the murders.”

“Wilkes retired yet?” Jack called over to Evelyn.

“Dropped out of the life years ago. And a plodder. His idea of creativity was toy handcuffs. We’re looking for someone with vision.”

“Add him anyway,” Jack said to me. Then to Evelyn. “Mercury?”

“A possibility. He was definitely creative. Knew positions even I never imagined.”

“Hank?”

“Mmm, he was pretty good, too. But he liked threesomes. Not my style. He’s dead, though. Heard he got the death sentence from his doctor, went to Reno, blew his retirement fund on reserving a whole brothel for a week and died happy.”

“How about saving us some time?” I said. “Just make a list of your former lovers.”

“You’ll need more paper.”

“Riley’s dead,” Jack said. “Falcon’s long retired. Not many left. Not at this age. Young man’s game.” He leaned back, as if searching his memory.

“What about Felix?” I said. “He’s about the right age.”

Evelyn shook her head, her eyes still on her computer screen. “He’s been with Quinn and if he started taking off, Quinn would be suspicious. Plus, Phoenix isn’t the retiring type.”

“Phoenix?”

“Felix. Phoenix is his work name. Any hitman with a moniker like that—a bird, animal, whatever—probably has a second nom de guerre for friends. Can you imagine chatting over beer with a guy and calling him ‘Phoenix’?”

“So I can cross Felix/Phoenix off my list. And Quinn is obviously too young—”

“Ah, Quinn,” she said. “What did you think of him, Dee?”

I glanced at Jack. “Okay, I guess. Seemed straight up.”

“Oh, he is. As straight as they come.” Her eyes glittered. “I bet you two will get along famously. You have so much in common, and not just a shared law-enforcement career. Quinn has another name, too, something with a little more…meaning, as much as he hates it. Perhaps you’ve heard of—”

“Scorpio,” Jack said.

“Scorpio? That’s Quinn’s other—”

“No,” Evelyn said. “Jack is telling us to move back to the list. Age-wise, Scorpio is a possibility, though you know him better than I do, Jack. Could he pull something like this?”

“Doesn’t matter. Add him. This list—” He waved at the paper in my hands. “Probably finish with four, five names. This job? Not a high retirement rate. Check them all.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

THIRTY