The mailman emerged from the back room. As always, he was dressed impeccably in his uniform. His hair, Doug noticed, was very nearly the same color as the floor. “Hello, gentlemen,” he said. He smiled at Tritia, nodding his head. “Ladies.”

Tritia tried to hide behind Doug. She did not like the mailman’s eyes. She did not like the mailman’s smile.

You’re nice.

His eyes remained on her, holding her gaze though she wanted to look away. “How’s your son?” he asked. The question was asked innocently, casually, but beneath the superficial interest was a deeper, obscene, frightening implication.

Billy’s nice too.

“We didn’t come here to chat,” Doug said coldly.

“We’ve had reports that there has been some tampering with the mails,” Tim said. His voice was steady, even, but Doug could sense a hint of fear in it. He knew the mailman could too. “Two citizens have complained that they have been receiving”—he reached for a word—“rather bizarre items in the mail.”

The mailman stared at the policeman calmly. “Such as?”

“Illegal items.”

The mailman smiled patiently, understandingly. “The Postal Service is not responsible for the contents of the mail it delivers and under federal law cannot be held liable for damage caused as a result of its delivery. However, we are just as concerned as you are about abuses of the postal system and are willing to cooperate fully with any efforts designed to get to the root of this problem.”

Tim did not know how to respond, and he looked to Doug for help.

“You’re sending mail yourself,” Doug said.

The mailman’s gaze was unwavering and unreadable. “Of course I am,” he said. “We all send mail. Are you implying that because I work for the post office I cannot send letters to people? Do you think that is some sort of conflict of interest?” He laughed, a false plastic laugh Doug knew he was supposed to see through. This conversation, Doug realized, was operating on two levels. The mailman was threatening him.

John Smith smiled. “I have to pay for postage just like everyone else. I don’t even get a discount. But there is no limit to the amount of letters I can send. I can mail as many items as I want to.”

“And have you mailed any threatening letters?” Tim asked. “Have you mailed any body parts?”

The mailman did not even pretend to be surprised. “I don’t like your insinuation,” he said.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to let me search this post office.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to get a search warrant,” the mailman said. “And I’m afraid you’re going to find it fairly difficult to obtain a warrant to search an office of the federal government.” He looked past Doug and Tritia out the window. “How’s Billy today?” he asked.