“In a little while he called back to invite me to lunch. I said all right and in the restaurant he tried to pick up the conversation where we had left off. He became very nervous. He spilled a glass of water. Finally he asked if I remembered the Leikman case and I said I did, vaguely. He wanted to know if a man like Tesla could be so far gone as to confess to a crime that he hadn’t committed. My memory of the case wasn’t clear and I couldn’t be sure of what Colin was leading to. Later he said that at that point he was trying to stop himself, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop talking. He said, ‘I know that Felix Tesla didn’t crush Leikman’s skull because I did. It’s as simple as that.’

“I had no doubt of it. I was looking around to see if anyone else had heard. Later, because I am a doctor, I did go to the library and read the newspaper accounts. They corresponded. There were things that Colin told me that were never mentioned in the papers, only suggested—the mutilations, the condition of the bedroom.

“We didn’t get out of the restaurant for another half hour. I had to be sure that he had calmed down. I had a class, but I skipped it, took him here, and gave him a shot to relax him. Referring him was out. I didn’t think that he could survive the ordeal.”

Leland unlocked the drawer. There were papers, folders, and a frayed, bulging manila envelope, soft as old money. He set it on the blotter and unwound the string. He had not seen such a closure since his days with Manitou Life.

Roberts said that the recorder was in the closet. Leland motioned to him to get it. There were two black and white laminated paperboard containers, without gummed labels or India ink identifications. Roberts must have looked around to see Leland examining the containers.

“I’ve never played them, although I’ve kept them since his death, in part, for his voice. I don’t know of any other recordings of his voice. There are a lot of reasons why I haven’t destroyed almost the last of what is left of him.” He swung the recorder onto the desk. “I don’t have any children of my own, no brothers and sisters, so no nieces or nephews. Even if I marry again, which I doubt, the woman almost certainly will be past childbearing age. I know that I saw an opportunity in Colin and Norma—I was very pleased when they told me that they were going to have a baby. We had a fine thing, the three of us, due in no small part to him. He worked hard to separate our work together from our social relationship outside. He was always kind to me—because he knew that I was working with him, not because his difficulties compelled him to be kind to me. He was a subtle and complicated man.”