She said, “FYI, I went over the list of the current faculty at North Valley High and found a few old-timers who remember Ben Little.”

Decker looked up from his pile of pink slips. Today Marge was wearing a magenta cotton blouse tucked into beige slacks. “Did you get a chance to talk to anyone?”

“No, I had a court case to deal with and an emergency scheduling issue. Besides, I thought you told me that Strapp wanted you to do the interviewing personally.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen.”

“It’s rotten of Strapp to put this kind of pressure on you.”

“I’ll survive. Did you have a chance to look up when Christopher Donatti came to L.A. as a student?”

“Bad boy Chris came to Central West High a year after Little’s murder. He never attended North Valley, although the schools are only six miles apart. If you want, I can delve a little further. The Little murder looked like a professional hit, and Donatti was…is a professional killer.”

Decker nodded. “Actually, I might even give him a call. Guys like him are always paranoid and hyperaware, so he may have heard something.”

“You can’t be serious!” When Decker shrugged, Marge said, “The son of a bitch shot you.”

“It wasn’t personal.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Maybe so, but a lot is riding on a solve for a fifteen-year-old case, and I’ll take any help I can get. So who’s still teaching at North Valley High from the Little days?”

Marge handed him the list—two teachers from the humanities, two from math and science, and the boys’ gym coach. “If you allow me to bring Oliver in, we could probably rip these interviews off in a couple of days. He would also be helpful because Scott was in Homicide at Devonshire when Little was murdered.”

“Have you talked to him about the Little case?”

“I don’t do anything without your okay, boss, but I’m sure if he read the file, a lot would come back to him. I did ask him about Arnie Lamar and Cal Vitton.”

“And?”

“He said they were all right…not corrupt as far as he knew. They were old-timers, although he was quick to point out that they were probably the same age as he is now. Then as he thought about it, he slipped into one of his famous funks. As you well know, it’s unpleasant dealing with Scott Oliver when he’s moping.”

“Did he wonder why you were asking about Lamar and Vitton?”

“I think he guessed, Pete. They’ve become synonymous with Ben Little’s murder.”

Decker handed her a slip of paper. “The first name—Phil Shriner—was the private detective that Melinda Little Warren hired to look into her husband’s murder. He wasn’t successful, even though Melinda said that she paid him a fortune.”

“Do you know if he’s still practicing?”