The blogger turned out to be a badly overweight young man with a two-day growth of ginger-red beard on his round, many-chinned face. He reminded Jake of an orangutan, with cheek pouches and sad, heavy-lidded eyes. He worked out of his basement apartment, a one-room lair with a single window set up by the ceiling, curtains pulled shut, although Jake could see through the slit between them the hubcaps of a car parked at the curb outside. The place was dark, damp. It smelled of perspiration and stale pizza and soy sauce. The sofa bed was open, sheets rumpled and soiled-looking. The rest of the furniture looked like junk recovered from a flood or a secondhand sale. A table by the sink was littered with cardboard food containers.

But standing on the rickety desk in the corner was a spanking-new computer, bright and clean.

Jake took this all in with a single glance once the blogger had opened his apartment door.

“Jake, this is Freeforall,” Amy said, with a straight face. “Free, this is Dr. Jacob Ross, professor of astronomy at the university.”

“Assistant professor,” Jake corrected as they stepped into the chaos of the room.

“Come on in,” said Freeforall. “We can get started right away.”

“What’s your real name?” Jake asked.

Freeforall shot him an annoyed glance. “Doesn’t matter.”

“He won’t use your name,” Amy assured Jake. “And he won’t mention the Tomlinson campaign, either. You’ll be ‘a reliable source.’”

They’ve got it all worked out, Jake realized.

Freeforall pulled a battered-looking rattan chair from the table by the sink and gestured for Jake to sit on it. He then settled himself in the wheeled padded chair in front of the computer and powered it up.

Turning to Jake, he began, “Okay, so what’s this about a couple of murders that Senator Leeds is connected with?”

Looking around for a camera, Jake asked, “This isn’t being videoed, is it?”

“Nope. Just audio,” said Freeforall. “Then I’ll transcribe it. Nobody’ll even hear your voice. Now tell me about Senator Leeds and these murders.”

Jake took in a deep breath, then started to unfold his story.

As he explained about Dr. McGruder, Freeforall interrupted him. “I understand somebody from Leeds’s office was in Florida when the doctor died.”

“That’s right,” said Jake.

“Who?”

“I thought we weren’t going to mention any names.”

“I’ll protect your name,” said the blogger, “but I want any names you can give me about the bad guys.”

With a shake of his head, Jake replied, “Let’s just say it was somebody who works in the senator’s office. And he’s connected with the gambling interests.”

“Somebody named Perez?”

“You already know!” Jake blurted.

Freeforall grinned smugly. “I know many things. I even know the name of the graduate student who was sleeping with Professor Sinclair.”

“You leave her out of it!” Jake snapped, half rising from his chair.