Halfway to Walnut Crossing he stopped at an all-night convenience store for a container of coffee. Sitting in the parking lot, sipping the coffee, going back over what had happened at Hardwick’s—what he could have done or should have done—endeavoring to organize some reasonable sequence of next steps, the thought came to him to call Kyle.

Prepared to leave a message, he was surprised to hear a live voice.

“Hey, Dad, what’s up?”

“Actually, too damn much.”

“Yeah? But, hell, you like it that way, don’t you?”

“You think so?”

“I know so. If you’re not being overwhelmed, you feel underoccupied.”

Gurney smiled. “I hope I’m not calling you too late.”

“Too late? It’s like nine forty-five. This is New York City. Most of my friends are just going out now.”

“Not you?”

“We decided to stay in tonight.”

“We?”

“Long story. What’s up?”

“A question, based on your Wall Street experience. Not even sure how to ask it. I spent my whole career buried in homicides, not white-collar stuff. What I’m wondering is, if an outfit was looking for major financing—let’s say for expansion—is that something that would get around on the grapevine?”

“That would depend.”

“On what?”

“On how ‘major’ a deal you’re talking about. And what kind of financing. And who’s involved. Lot of different factors. To get into the rumor mill, it would need to be big. Nobody on the Street talks about small stuff. What outfit are we talking about?”

“Something called the Cyberspace Cathedral—brainchild of a guy named Jonah Spalter.”

“Kind of rings a bell.”

“Any facts attached to that bell?”

“CyberCath …”

“CyberCath?”

“People in finance are big on abbreviations, stock-exchange names, fast talk—like they’re too busy to use whole words.”

“The Cyberspace Cathedral is listed on the stock exchange?”

“I don’t think so. That’s just the way the boys talk. What do you want to know about it?”

“Anything people say about it that I wouldn’t find on Google.”

“No problem. You working on a new case?”

“A murder conviction appeal. I’m trying to dig up some facts the original investigation may have ignored.”

“Cool. How’s it going?”

“Interestingly.”

“Knowing how you talk about these things, I’d say that means that you were shot at but not hit.”

“Well … sort of.”

“Whaaat? You mean I’m right? Are you okay? Somebody tried to shoot you?”

“He was just shooting at a house I happened to be in.”

“Jeez! That’s part of this case you’re on?”

“I think so.”

“How can you be so calm? I’d be going nuts if somebody shot at a house I was in.”

“I’d be more upset if he were aiming at me personally.”

“Wow. If you were a comic-book hero, they’d have to call you Doctor Cool.”