Bullard’s skepticism returned. “You mean a link that might connect the victims? Other than their cars? We just discussed the problem with—”

“Maybe it’s not a ‘link’ per se. Kim’s stated goal—widely advertised—was to reveal the effects of murder on the lives of the living. Maybe there’s something in the current lives of those families that the killer doesn’t want revealed—something that might point to his identity.”

Trout yawned.

Perhaps if he hadn’t, Gurney wouldn’t have felt compelled to add a final possibility. “Or maybe the murder, combined with the explanatory message, is an effort to make sure that everyone keeps thinking about the Good Shepherd attacks in the same old way. Maybe it’s an effort to head off the possibility of someone finally launching the kind of investigation that should have been conducted at the time.”

There was fury in Trout’s eyes. “What the hell do you know about what should have been done at the time?”

“What seems clear is that you viewed the case exactly the way the Good Shepherd wanted you to, and you acted accordingly.”

Trout stood up abruptly. “Lieutenant Bullard, as of now this case is coming under federal control. The chaos and crackpot theories you’re encouraging here don’t give me any alternative.” He pointed at Gurney. “This man is here at your invitation. He has no official standing. He has repeatedly voiced a stunning disrespect for the Bureau. He may very well become the central figure in a felony arson case. He may also be the recipient of illegally leaked materials from FBI and BCI files. He has suffered traumatic brain injury and may have physical and psychological impairments to his perception and judgment. I refuse to waste any more time debating anything with him, or in his presence. I’ll be speaking to your Major Forbes about the realignment of investigatory responsibility.”

Daker stood up next to Trout. He looked pleased.

“Sorry you feel that way,” said Bullard calmly. “My purpose in airing contrasting points of view was to test their relative strengths. You don’t think my purpose was achieved?”

“It’s been a waste of time.”

“Trout’s going to be famous,” said Gurney with a chilly grin. Everyone looked at him. “He’s going to go down in FBI history as the only supervising agent who ever took control of the same case twice and managed to screw it up twice.”

There were no farewells, no handshakes.

Thirty seconds later Gurney and Bullard were alone in the room. “How sure are you?” she asked.

“How sure are you that you’re right and everybody else is wrong?”

“About ninety-five percent.”

No sooner did he hear his own words than a profound doubt swept through him. To be that sure of anything in these shadowy circumstances suddenly seemed like manic overconfidence.