Spears's office was located in a storefront on Dodson. There was no one in the waiting room. His front office "girl" was in her sixties, a Mrs. Gary, according to her name tag. Her desktop was orderly and the surrounding office space was laid out with efficiency; charts filed on the vertical. A random band of color-coded labels formed an irregular line across the flaps. A small sign in cross-stitch hung on the wall: PLEASE PAY AT TIME SERVICES ARE RENDERED. I was sure she'd be sympathetic when she heard your front cap came off in the middle of a ladies' lunch, but she probably wouldn't take any guff from you if your check should bounce.

When she opened the sliding glass window that separated her office from the waiting room, I placed a copy of my PI license on the counter. Dolan had given me the file containing Jane Doe's dental chart, showing the number and location of her fillings. I placed that on the counter as well. In the background, I could hear the high-pitched squealing of a drill, a sound that was sometimes sufficient to cause me to pass out. I ran a dampened palm across the seat of my pants and said, "Hi. I'm hoping you can give me some information."

"I can certainly try."

"I'm currently working with two Santa Teresa homicide detectives on a Jane Doe case that's been on the books since 1969. This is a chart of her dental work. There's an off chance she lived in this area and we're wondering if she might have been a patient of Dr. Spears's. She was most likely a minor when the work was done."

She glanced at the file. "He's with a patient right now. Can you come back in half an hour?"

"It's easier if I just wait," I said. "How long have you worked for him?"

"Since he opened his practice in 1960. What did you say the patient's name was?"

"I don't know. That's the point. She was never identified. She had numerous fillings and the forensic odontist who examined the maxilla and mandible thought the work was probably done in the two years before her death. It's a long shot, I know."

"I doubt we'd have a chart on someone we haven't seen in nearly twenty years."

"What happens to the old charts? Are they destroyed?"

"Usually not. They're put on inactive status and retired to dead storage. I'm not sure how far back they go. You're talking about hundreds of patients, you know."

"I'm aware of that. The charts are here in town ?"

"If you're suggesting a hand search, that's something you'd have to talk to Dr. Spears about. I'm not sure he'd agree to anything without a court order."

"We'll only be in town for two days and we were hoping to avoid delay."

"Wait and see what he says. It isn't up to me."

"I understand."