When the doors opened again, Pardy led me along a light beige hall that was lined with file cabinets, and into the Homicide Bureau. The homicide detectives were housed in a narrow room with too much furniture and not enough storage. Like the hall, the homicide room bristled with file cabinets.

Diaz was at the far end with two detectives who looked like middle-aged carpet salesmen. Pardy gestured toward her.

"Detective Diaz will show you where. I gotta get the file."

Diaz met me in the center of the room, then led me to her desk. It was wedged against the wall, and faced another desk. A black female detective as small and brittle as a hummingbird was at the adjoining desk, quietly asking someone on the phone to tell her what happened next. She scribbled notes as she spoke, ignoring us.

"Siddown here, Cole. So does the name Reinnike or Anson, California, mean anything to you?"

Like she expected a lightbulb to flash over my head and me to shout, DADDY!

"No. Do you have anything on him?"

"Beckett ran the name through NCIC and DMV. No one by this name shows on their rolls, either; which means he resided out of state or held a license under another name."

Like his alias, Herbert Faustina, George Llewelyn Reinnike was also a cipher.

Pardy returned with a black three-ring binder. It was his murder book. As the lead homicide detective, Pardy would file all the reports, witness statements, and relevant evidence he accumulated in this one binder. Since this was his first case as the lead, it was probably the first time he had been responsible for the book. He draped a leg over the edge of Diaz's desk, and carefully snapped open the rings. There weren't many pages yet in the book, but more would be added as the case developed. He handed me a thin stack of reports.

"Okay, Cole, this is the medical examiner's prelim, and the records from the company that manufactured the appliances. You can read it here in front of us, and make notes, but you can't make copies. That's the way it is."

I was anxious to read, but Diaz touched the reports before I could begin.

"Hang on. You said you had a vehicle description. Let's get started with that."

Pardy made notes on a yellow pad as I repeated Thomas's description.

"They get the plate?"

Diaz cut off his question as if he was stupid.

"He would have told you if he had the plate. Keep going, Cole - did you get anything else?"

"They prayed."

Diaz and Pardy waited the way I waited when Margaret Keyes first told me.

"Reinnike didn't have sex with them. He paid them to pray for him."

Pardy laughed.

"That's bullshit. Are you making that up?"

"All three women told me the same thing. They prayed for his forgiveness."

Diaz's dark eyes colored like smoke on the horizon.

"Why did he need forgiveness?"