Stil, I could not believe it. Ancient times, ancient peoples, yes. These things didn't happen in modern America.

A sudden synapse.

One more phone cal. Colorado. Twenty minutes later, another fax.

I stared at it, the paper trembling slightly in my hand.

Dear God. It was undeniable.

===OO=OOO=OO===

I found McMahon at his temporary headquarters in the Bryson City Fire Department. As with the incident morgue, the function of the FBI office had changed. McMahon and his coleagues had shifted their focus from crash to crime scene investigation, their paradigm from terrorism to homicide.

Space formerly occupied by the NTSB was now empty, and several cubicles had been merged to create what looked like a task force squad room. Buletin boards that had once featured the names of terrorist groups and militant radicals now held those of eight murder victims. In one cluster, the positive IDs: Edna Farrel. Albert Odel.

Jeremiah Mitchel. George Adair. In another, the unknown and those stil in question: John Doe. Tucker Adams. Charlie Wayne Tramper. Mary Francis Rafferty.

Though every name was accompanied by a date of disappearance, the amount and type of information varied considerably from board to board.

On the opposite end of the room, more boards displayed photos of the Arthur house. I recognized the attic cots, the dining room table, the great room fireplace. I was examining shots of the basement murals when McMahon joined me.

'Cheerful stuff.'

'Sheriff Crowe thought that was a copy of a Goya.'

'She's right. It's Saturn Devouring His Children'

He tapped a photo of the raft scene.

'This one's by Theodore Géricault. Know him?'

I shook my head.

'It's caled The Raft of Medusa.'

'What's the story?'

'We're checking.'

'Who's the bear?'

'Same answer. We ran the name but came up with zip. Can't be that many Baxbakualanuxsiwaes out there.'

He removed a thumbtack with his nail and handed me a list.

'Familiar with anyone on the playbil?'

'The names from the tunnel wals?'

'Yeah. Special Agent Rayner's working them.'

Three folding tables lined the back of the room. One held a computer, the others cardboard boxes, each marked with date and provenance: Kitchen drawer L3. Living room, north wall bookcase. Other boxes were stacked on the floor.

A young man in shirtsleeves and tie worked at the computer. I'd seen him at the Arthur house, but we hadn't met. McMahon gestured from the agent to me.

'Roger Rayner, Tempe Brennan.'

Rayner looked up and smiled, then went back to his monitor.

'We've nailed a few of the more obvious players. The Greek and Roman gods, for example.'

I noted comments folowing some names. Cronus. Dionysus. The Daughters of Mineus. The Daughters of Pelias. Polyphemus.