Hood was in his office, waiting for nine A.M. to arrive. That was when he planned to call Daphne Connors at home. While he waited, his phone beeped. He hoped it was the advertising executive. If Daphne called him, that would make his life a whole lot easier.

It was not Daphne Connors. It was Lowell Coffey.

“Well, we just sent two teams on a very unusual mission,” Coffey said.

“Where are you?”

“At the observation post cabin of the Queensland North Rural Fire Brigade,” Coffey said. “We have a new member of the team.”

“Oh?”

“A koala that was burned in a fire,” Coffey said. “They’re sneaking him into the Darling compound through a back entrance. Then the fire captain, FNO Loh, and Bob are going in the front door to try to get him back.”

“Who are Loh and Bob supposed to be?” Hood asked.

“Volunteers with the local International Wildlife Education and Conservation Group,” Coffey told him. “They’re going to position the koala as their local poster child. Tell Darling what bad press it would be if the little escapee was hurt on his property. While they’re inside, Bob is going to try to split from the others to get to Darling’s phone.”

“Has he got a chance?”

“You know I would never bet against Bob,” Coffey replied. “But I have to admit he’s got me worried. Bob’s pretty pissed off.”

“About what?”

“He was getting pretty hot about Darling, about the whole idea of a guy in our sights being innocent until proven otherwise,” Coffey said.

“Hold on,” Hood said. “I’m going to conference in Liz Gordon.”

“Paul, I don’t know if it’s that serious—”

“Exactly,” Hood said. “Let’s talk to someone who will.”

Hood put Coffey on hold and punched in Liz’s home phone. She was there, obviously still asleep. The Op-Center psychiatrist did the Washington bar scene on Friday nights. Not to party, she swore, but to research a book she was writing on the dynamics of human flirtation. Maybe that was true. But Liz certainly sounded hungover when she answered the phone. She recovered quickly when she heard it was Paul Hood on the line. He brought her up to date and then plugged Coffey into the conversation.

“Lowell, Liz is on the line,” Hood said.

“Good morning,” Liz said groggily.

“Late evening here,” Coffey said. “But good morning.”

“Right. Lowell, did Bob seem unstable, impatient?” she asked.

“He seemed fed up,” Coffey replied. “He was disgusted out of proportion with the situation we’re facing.”

“How bad did he lay into you personally?” Liz asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Did he insult you, criticize you, work you over?” Liz asked. “Putting it bluntly, Lowell, is this payback?”

“No!” Coffey said. “Even if he had, I can be objective. Give me credit.”

“Not my job,” she said. “Was there any physical manifestation? Was he pounding things, playing repetitively with anything on his wheelchair?”