“The problem is,” said Milo, “all we can know is that someone called you at a certain time. We can’t verify what was said.”

“It happened.”

“According to Armando.”

“Armando ain’t lyin’.”

“All those hang-ups,” said Milo. “Then all of a sudden, someone’s whispering about Peaty and Armando’s listening.”

Jacalyn Vasquez’s hands, still crossed, climbed to her face and pushed against her cheeks. Her features turned rubbery. When she spoke through compressed lips, the words came out slurred, like a kid goofing.

“It happened. Armando told me. It happened.”

* * *

Brittany Chamfer was waiting in the hall, playing with her nose stud. She whipped around, saw Jacalyn Vasquez dabbing her eyes. “You okay, Jackie?”

“He don’ believe me.”

Chamfer said, “What?”

Milo said, “Thanks for coming in.”

Chamfer said, “We’re looking for the truth.”

“Common goal.”

Chamfer considered her response. “What message should I give to Mr. Shuldiner?”

“Thank him for his civic duty.”

“Pardon?”

“Thank him for creativity, too.”

Brittany Chamfer said, “I’m not going to tell him that.”

“Have a nice day.”

“I will.” Chamfer flipped her long hair. “Will you?”

Renewing her grip, she propelled Jacalyn Vasquez up the corridor.

Milo said, “That’s why the D.A.’s office palmed it on me. What a crock.”

“You’re dismissing it out of hand?” I said.

“You’re not?”

“If Vasquez’s lying to exonerate himself, he could’ve picked something stronger. Like Peaty threatening him explicitly.”

“So he’s stupid.”

“Maybe that’s it,” I said.

He leaned against the wall, scuffed the baseboard. “Even if someone did call Vasquez to prime the pump against Peaty, the right suspect’s in jail. Let’s say Ertha Stadlbraun got things stoked up because Peaty had always creeped her out. My interview tipped her over and she stirred up the tenants. One of them was an incompletely reformed banger with a bad temper and boom boom boom.”

“If you’re comfortable not checking it out, so am I.”

He turned his back on me, imbedded both hands in his hair and turned it into a fright wig. Smoothing it down was a partial success. He stomped back into his office.

When I entered, he had the phone receiver in hand but wasn’t punching numbers. “Know what kept me up last night? Damned snow globe. Brad thought Meserve put it there but the one in the van says Peaty did. Would Peaty taunt Brad?”

“Maybe Peaty didn’t leave it.”

“What?”

“Meserve thinks he’s an actor,” I said. “Actors do voice-overs.”

“The Infernal Whisperer? I can’t get distracted by that kind of crap, Alex. Still have to check out all those buildings Peaty cleaned, stuff could be hidden anywhere. Can’t ignore Billy either, because he hung with Peaty and I was masochistic enough to find out.”