“And that set you off?” Decker asked.

“I’m not little, Pete.”

“And you certainly ain’t no lady.”

Marge laughed hollowly.

“Well, bless my soul,” Decker said. “A seasoned detective like yourself. This one really got to you.”

Marge didn’t answer. A moment later, she said, “You know what pisses me off about cop films?”

“What?”

“Those cutesey ones where there’s all this calm, witty banter around stiffs. Know which ones I’m talking about?”

Decker nodded. Marge threw the car out of low gear as the hillside inclines began to level. The overgrown canary shrubbery had thinned out, replaced by fields of crabgrass and dandelion weeds. Houses could be seen about five hundred yards up.

“Crandal was doing that,” she said. “Making jokes. I didn’t like it.”

“Not that I’m sticking up for the guy, Marge, but he might have been doing that as a defense.”

“Yeah,” Marge said. “I know. And maybe I am acting a little weepy. But seeing it that close, that putrid. I don’t know, I’m not used to working Homicide, and I didn’t care for Crandal’s attitude.”

“Understandable,” Decker said.

“So how’d you manage to live with corpses in your dreams for six years?”

“I thought I was managing just fine until Jan asked me for a divorce.”

Marge laughed, genuinely this time. “So let me ask you this, Mr. Experienced Homicide Dick, what do you think? A family thing, or a burglary that went afoul?”

Decker didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “I’ll tell you what I don’t think. I don’t think it was a psycho case—another Manson gang hacking up the family and loving every minute of it. No smeared blood, no satanic signs. The homicides, as horrible as they were, seemed like an impulsive thing. Three in one pile, probably murdered where they stood. Luke pushed up against the fridge. Know what impressed me?”

“What?”

“All that spilt milk, the scattered bottles. Someone actually seemed to take time out to prepare bottles for Katie. Someone was planning on taking her, then changed his or her mind.”

“Or maybe someone interrupted Linda when she was making bottles.”

“Linda was trying to split with Katie and someone stopped her?” Decker asked.

“Just throwing out a thought,” Marge said.

“Lots of possibilities with a family affair,” Decker said. “Someone plugged them all, then impulsively decided to rescue Katie. Or someone saw what had happened, rescued the kid, and dropped her off at Manfred, not wanting to call the police. Family protecting one another.”

“Or Byron Howard,” Marge said. “I bet he’d be as protective as family. He doesn’t cotton to strangers.”

“Yeah,” Decker said. “Think he was faking his reaction?”

“I think the reaction was real,” Marge said. “But that doesn’t mean anything. He could have done it in a fit of madness, then been truly shocked when he saw what he had actually done.”