Gurney uttered a sharp, one-syllable laugh. “The problem is a gaping lack of critical thinking. The whole goddamn thing is too neatly packaged, too simple, and way too useful to too many people. It hasn’t been challenged, argued, tested, ripped, and kicked, because too many experts in too many positions of power and influence like it the way it is—a textbook crime spree by a textbook psycho.”

After a short silence, Kyle said, “You sound pissed off.”

“You ever see what someone looks like who’s taken a .50-caliber hollow-point round in the side of the head?”

“Pretty bad, I guess.”

“It’s the most dehumanizing thing imaginable. The so-called Good Shepherd did that to six people. He didn’t just kill them. He mangled them, turned them into something pathetic and horrible.” Gurney stared off into the darkness for a long minute before going on. “Those people deserve more than they’ve gotten. They deserve a more serious debate. They deserve questions.”

“So what’s the plan? Find loose ends and yank on them?”

“If I can.”

“Well, that’s what you’re good at, right?”

“I used to be. We’ll see.”

“You’ll succeed. You’ve never failed at anything.”

“Of course I have.”

Again there was a brief silence, broken by Kyle. “What kinds of questions?”

“Hmm?” Gurney’s mind had drifted into the depths of his shortcomings.

“Just wondering—what kinds of questions do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Some big amorphous questions about the sort of personality that could be behind the language in the manifesto, the attack logistics, the choice of weapon. And lots of smaller questions, like why all the cars were the same make—”

“Or why they all came from Sindelfingen?”

“Why they all … what?”

“All six cars were built in the Mercedes plant in Sindelfingen, just outside Stuttgart. Probably doesn’t mean anything. Just an odd little factoid.”

“How on earth would you know a thing like that?”

“I told you I paid a lot of attention.”

“That Sindelfingen thing was in the news?”

“No. The years and models of the cars were in the news. I was … you know … trying to figure things out. I wondered what the cars might have in common beyond what was obvious. Mercedes has a lot of assembly plants, in a lot of countries. But those six cars all came from Sindelfingen. Just a coincidence, right?”

Even though it was too dark to make out his face, Gurney turned toward Kyle on the bench. “I still don’t get why you …”

“Why I bothered to look into that? I don’t know. I guess I … I mean, I looked into a lot of stuff like that … like crimes … murders … stuff like that.”