Eight credit-card purchases of video equipment that day, two of them over a thousand dollars. No Crimmins, Wark, or Orson, or Argent. Nothing that brought to mind a scrambled director's name. Milo copied down the names and the credit card numbers as Mustafa looked on nervously.

"What about cash sales? Would you have records of those?"

"If the customer purchased me extended warranty. If he gave us his address so we could put him on the mailing list."

Milo tapped the computer. "How about scrolling back a few days."

Mustafa said, "This isn't good," but he complied.

Nothing for the entire week.

Mustafa pushed a button and the screen went blank. By the time Milo thanked him, he'd walked away.

Chapter 32

A few more detectives had returned to the Robbery-Homicide room. I pulled a chair up next to Mile's desk and listened as he called Social Security and the Franchise Tax Board. Two hits: tax refunds had been sent to George Orson. Place of employment: Starkweather State Hospital.

"The checks were sent to an address on Pico-ten thousand five hundred. Commercial zone, ten to one a mail drop. Also, close to Richard's dump site ... Okay, okay, something's happening here. I need to get more specific, find out if he still works at Starkweather."

"What about Lindeen the receptionist?" I said. "She likes you. Must be that masculine cop musk."

He grimaced. "Yeah, I'm a musk ox.... Okay, why not?" He jabbed the phone. "Hello, Lindeen? Hi, it's Milo Sturgis. Right... Oh, muddling along, how 'bout you.... Well, that's terrific, yeah I've heard about those, sounds like fun, at least you get to solve something.... Uh, well, I'm not sure I have anything to ... Think so? Well, okay, if I can get some free time-after I clear Dr. Argent's case.... No, wish I could say I was.... Speaking of which, does a psych tech named George Orson still work there?" He spelled the surname. "Nothing major, but I heard he might've been a friend of Dr. Argent's.... I know she didn't, but his name came up from another party, they said he worked at Starkweather and knew her.... No?" He frowned. "Could you? That'd be great."

He lowered the mouthpiece. "The name's a little familiar, but she can't connect it to a face."

"Hundred employees," I said. "What's the barter?" ,

He started to answer, moved the phone back under his mouth." Yup, still here.... Did he? When was that? Any forwarding address?" His pen was poised, but he didn't write. "So how long was he actually on staff?" Scribble. "Any idea why he left? No, I wouldn't call him that, just checking every lead.... What's that? That soon? I wish I could say yes, but unless the case clears, I'm pretty- Pardon? Yeah, okay, I promise.... Yeah, it should be fun. Me, too. Thanks, Lin-deen. And listen, you don't need to bother Mr. Swig about this. I've got everything I need. Thanks again."