She tried to "uh-huh" her way through a conversation that was clearly personal, finally said, "Gotta go," and hung up.

"Yes, sir?"

Milo grinned down at her. "I need to do some follow-up with one of your staffers. Heidi Ott. May I have her home number, please?"

"Um, I'm not sure I can do that without authorization. And Mr. Swig's gone- Oh, what the hey, you're the police. You can always get it anyway, in one of those backwards directories, right?" Batting her lashes, she left her desk, sashayed up the hall to the closest brown door, came back with a message blank, and gave it to Milo. Neatly printed name and number, 213 area code.

Milo gave a small bow. "Thank you, ma'am."

"No problem, sir." More eyelash aerobics. "I hope you find whoever did it."

Milo thanked her again and we headed for the main doors.

Lindeen said, "Why do you want to speak to Heidi?"

"She worked with Dr. Argent."

Lindeen picked up a pencil and tapped the edge of her desk. "I don't think they were friends or anything. Dr. Argent didn't have any friends that I saw. Real quiet. When a bunch of us went for margaritas or something we asked her along, but she always said no, so we stopped asking. I figured she was shy. But still, it's so horrible what happened to her. When I heard, I just couldn't believe it, someone you see every day and then they're just..." She snapped a finger. "She used to walk right past me every morning at eight, pronto, say good morning, walk on like she had a big plan for the day. It's so... horrible."

"Yes it is," said Milo. "So she didn't have any pals at all?"

"Not that I saw. She always seemed like work, work, work. Nice, but work, work, work. Hope you solve it."

She reached for the phone. Milo said, "Pardon me, ma'am. Just one more thing I'm curious about."

Her hand rested on the receiver. "What's that?"

"The guy who took us around-Hatterson. What's he in for?"

"Oh, him," she said. "Why, was there some kind of problem?"

"No. Does he cause problems?"

She snorted. "Not hardly."

"The reason I'm asking is, he didn't seem very crazy. I'm just wondering what kind of guy gets to be a tour guide."

"Phil," she said, pronouncing the name with distaste. "Phil raped a child so bad she needed reconstructive surgery."

Chapter 6

Frank Dollard was waiting for us, outside. He walked us across the yard without comment. Giant Chet stood in a corner, staring at chain link. Sharbno the urinator was gone. A few men palsied, a few men sat in the dirt. The sun was even hotter.

Dollard waited as we retrieved Milo's gun and my knife. The outer gate swung open.

Milo said, "Let me ask you a question, Frank. A guy like Hatterson-in prison he'd be lunch meat."