I started the ball rolling. “I’m very sorry to disturb you, ma’am. We have a couple of questions regarding Belinda Syracuse. We understand she lives here.”

“Belinda?” The woman was confused. “Belinda’s a good girl. What did she do?”

“Is she with you now?” I asked.

“No, she’s out on a weekend pass to visit her brother. May I ask what this is all about?”

I showed her the dog tag. The woman gasped. “What happened to her?”

“We’re not sure. That’s why we’re here.” Oliver walked across the threshold, into the house. We followed, glad to be out of the chill. “Right now, we need the name and phone number of Belinda’s brother.”

“May I please see your badge again?” the woman asked.

Because the lights were so dim, Oliver held it up to her face. “I know this must be upsetting. The sooner you give us the information, the sooner we’ll be able to tell you something.”

“I’ve been to the center before,” I added. “With the Sarah Sanders case.”

“She found Sarah’s baby,” Hayley joined in.

“I spoke to Mr. Klinghoffner.”

“He’s not in,” the woman told us. “He doesn’t sleep here.”

Hayley said, “And you are …”

“Myra Manigan.”

Just then a voice came from above the stairs. “Ms. Manigan? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she shouted. “I’ll be up in a moment, dear.”

Oliver tossed her his most charming smile. “Please, Ms. Manigan. The number?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just so … discombobulating.” She turned on a few more lights. “Have a seat. What time is it?”

“Around four A.M.,” Hayley said. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine, but thank you. Wait a moment.”

When she was out of earshot, Hayley said, “Poor girl. First being retarded, then dying so dreadfully. What kind of life is that?”

A few minutes later, Myra came down the steps. “I’ve phoned Mr. Klinghoffner.”

“We still need the number,” Oliver told her.

“Yes, of course. But if you find out—”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on, yes.”

Still, she hesitated. Then, screwing up her courage, she handed me the name and number.

Terrance Syracuse.

The number was a West L.A. exchange.

I traded glances with Oliver. “You’re the lead.”

Oliver threw it back to me. “Help yourself, Decker.”

I looked at Ms. Manigan. “Can I borrow your phone?”

“Of course.”

I took a deep breath and phoned. The man who answered was groggy and pissed. I explained the dilemma as succinctly as possible but he was still at sea, although now he was agitated.

“She’s not over there?” he asked me.

“No, sir, she’s not. We were hoping she was with you.”

“But she’s supposed to be over there. What’s going on? Who is this?”

“Hollywood Police,” I told him again. “I’m at the Fordham Center right now. I think we could sort this out more efficiently if we spoke in person.”

“First things first,” Syracuse demanded. “Where is Belinda?”

“Sir, what’s your address?”

“Something’s happened to her, hasn’t it?” His voice broke. “She told me she was going back early. She told me she had a ride.”