She looked at her watch. “Sure. They about your tests? You wanna go to my office? How are you feeling?”

“They’re about the night before Johnson was killed.”

“Someone said they heard you were conducting an investigation. Is that true? Are you not really a chaplain?”

“I’m just helping the IG a little. I used to be an investigator.”

“Really? Cool. What made you become a chaplain?”

“It’s a long, complicated story, but for most of my life I’ve done both.”

“Both?”

“Investigation and ministry.”

“Wow, very interesting. I’d like to hear that long complicated story sometime. Perhaps over dinner.”

“It’s a date.”

She smiled. “I keep thinking about that night. Haven’t really come up with anything else. It was a pretty quiet night.”

“I’m still not clear on when Thomas came to the infirmary and how long he stayed.”

“Thomas wasn’t there on my shift,” she said. “Just Johnson and Jacobson.”

“What about Nurse Anderson?” I asked.

“She was in and out. Mostly out. It’s what she always does—waddles around, flirts with inmates, takes smoke breaks. Anything to avoid work.”

“Is there a typewriter down here?”

“I think there’s an old one somewhere. We all use the computer.”

“Does your inmate orderly use it?”

“Jones? I can’t imagine. I don’t think he reads or writes, but . . . I guess he could. I’m just not sure.”

“Do you know where it is?” I asked.

“Last time I saw it . . . Think it was in the first office on the left when you enter the medical department. Just before the nurses’ station. You want me to get it for you?”

“Is it locked?”

She shook her head. “Stays open. Just some extra furniture and a few supplies in there.”

“Thanks. I may take a look at it. No need to take up any more of your time. But there is something you can do for me.”

“Name it.”

“Be extra careful,” I said. “Don’t be alone with anyone. This is a dangerous place.”

“Prison?”

“The infirmary.”

“Oh.”

“Even with your orderly—”

“Jones? He’s old and harmless,” she said. “Surely you don’t mean—”

“I mean everyone.”

“Including you?” she asked with a smile. “I’m alone with you right now.”

Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world yet loses his soul? The little brown fox jumped over something or other.

After typing several sentences on the typewriter I found in the empty medical office, I pulled out one of the letters I had received and compared them.

The type was identical—the t’s missing the right side of the crossbar. The o’s missing a small place in the bottom center. And the a’s were darker than all the other print.