The drive back to Walnut Crossing in their separate cars took nearly two hours. Toward the end the sun was low enough in the sky to produce a hazy glare on Gurney’s dirty windshield—reminding him for the third or fourth time that week that he was out of wiper fluid. What irritated him more than the absence of the fluid was his increasing dependence on notes. If he didn’t write something down …

The ring of his phone interrupted his brooding over the state of his mind. He was surprised to see Hardwick’s name on the screen.

“Yes, Jack?”

“The first one was easy. But don’t think that reduces your debt.”

Gurney thought back to the request he’d made that morning. “The first one being the history of Mr. Meese-Montague?”

“Actually, Mr. Montague-Meese, but more about that anon.”

“Anon?”

“Yeah, anon. It means ‘soon.’ One of William Shakespeare’s favorite words. Whenever he meant ‘soon,’ he said ‘anon.’ I’m expanding my vocabulary so I can speak with greater confidence to intellectual dicks like you.”

“That’s good, Jack. I’m proud of you.”

“Okay, this is a first take. Maybe we’ll have more later. The individual of whom we speak was born March twenty-eighth, 1989, at St. Luke’s Hospital in New York City.”

“Huh.”

“What’s the ‘huh’ about?”

“That means he’s about to turn twenty-one.”

“So fucking what?”

“Just an interesting fact. Proceed.”

“There is no father’s name indicated on the birth certificate. Little Robert was surrendered for adoption by his mother, whose name, incidentally, was Marie Montague.”

“So little Robert was actually a Montague before he was a Meese. Very interesting.”

“It gets more interesting. He was adopted almost immediately by a prominent Pittsburgh couple, Gordon and Celia Meese. Gordon, it so happens, was filthy rich. Heir to an Appalachian coal-mining fortune. Guess what comes next.”

“The excitement in your voice tells me it’s something horrible.”

“At the age of twelve, Robert was removed from the Meese home by Child Protective Services.”

“Were you able to find out why?”

“No. Believe me, that is one seriously sealed case file.”

“Why am I not surprised? What happened to Robert after that?”

“Ugly story. One foster home after another. No one willing to keep him for more than six months. Difficult young man. Has been prescribed various drugs for a generalized anxiety disorder, borderlinepersonality disorder, intermittent-explosive disorder—gotta love that one.”

“I guess I shouldn’t ask how you got access to—”

“Right. So don’t. Bottom line, it adds up to a very insecure kid with a shaky grip on reality and a major anger problem.”

“Then how did this paragon of stability—”