“You’re asking about Kyle because he might be from Shaw’s other life?”

Joe heard the reserve in Fred’s voice. “I know it’s out there. But what’ve I got to work with? I’m building a picture here with pieces of confetti scattered all over the street.”

Fred took that in, thought a moment, and then lifted his chin slightly. “Okay,” he said. “Got it. Let me poke around a bit. That work?”

Joe rose and laid his hand on Houston’s shoulder. “Yes. Absolutely. Appreciate it.”

Susan Spinney looked up from enjoying her beer on her back porch in Springfield to see Willy Kunkle standing on the lawn, taking her in.

Startled but not upset, she raised her bottle in greeting and said, “Is being a deeply creepy man natural, or do you work at it?”

“Me?” he asked.

“Most people ring the doorbell. You case a joint like it was an enemy pillbox.”

He approached the porch at her gesture to join him. “Hard habit to break,” he said. “And I don’t see any really good reason to do it. Is Les around?”

“Depends,” she said, sliding a seltzer bottle toward him from the assortment by her side. The day had been unusually warm, and while she was still wearing a coat, she hadn’t been able to resist tacking some afternoon sunshine onto an official day off.

Willy placed the bottle between his thighs and unscrewed the cap with his right hand. “I want to talk him into a little scouting mission.”

“Will this risk his career, like most of your schemes? He’ll probably love it.”

She took another sip of beer before rising to open the back door and yell, “Les! The Prince of Darkness is here.”

Lester appeared in under a minute, wiping his hands with a dish towel. “Hey,” he said, surprised. “That’s my seltzer. What’s up? Everything okay?”

Sue took advantage of his arrival to head inside, saying, “I bet that depends on what you agree to. I don’t want to be a witness.” She paused at the door and blew Willy a kiss. “Love you, Kunkle. Return what’s left of my husband in one piece, please.”

This time, Willy raised his own bottle—or, more accurately, Lester’s. “Will do, kiddo. Love you, too.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Les asked, sitting down and opening a bottle of his own.

“You talk to Joe this afternoon?”

“Nope. I was going to check for messages in a bit, see if the case file’s been updated.”

Willy pushed out his lips slightly before saying, “Won’t find much. He’s circling a notion like a dog does a hydrant, but he’s not putting anything on record yet.”

“What notion?” Lester asked reasonably.

“In a nutshell? He’s wondering if Lemuel Shaw isn’t an avatar—a manifestation of somebody who’s not what he seems.”

Lester followed the premise. “Making him who, in reality?”

“Jack the Child Grabber, if the boss is right,” Willy said, taking a swig. “Joe thinks that maybe Shaw’s two people in one: a local boy done good who moved back to the neighborhood, and a well-heeled pedophile with a very covert second life.”