I considered all of that and figured that he had probably been out of sight of the Caprice for at least thirty seconds.

"On the car, when you first ran out, did you, check all the doors to see if any were unlocked?"

"Just on the driver's side. But they were all locked."

"How do you know?"

"When the cops got out here they tried them all and they were locked. They had to use one of those slim jim things to pop the lock."

I nodded and said, "What about the backseat? You said yesterday that the windows were fogged. Did you put your face up to the glass and look directly into the backseat?

Down at the floor?"

Pena understood now what I was asking about. He thought for a moment and shook his head in the negative.

"No, I didn't look directly into the back. I just thought it was the one guy, is all."

"Did the cops ask you these questions?"

"No, not really. I see what you're driving at, though-" Inodded.

"One last thing. When you called it in, did you say it was a suicide or just that it was a shooting?"

"I . . . , Yeah, I said somebody up here went and shot hisself Just like that. They got a tape, I'spect."

"Probably. Thanks a lot."

I started back to my car as the first flurries started floating down. Pena called after me.

"What about the hypnotizing?"

"They'll call if they want to do it."

Before getting in the car I checked the trunk. There were no chains. On my way back through Boulder I stopped at a bookstore called, appropriately enough, The Rue Morgue and picked up a thick volume containing the complete stories and poems of Edgar Allan Poe. My intention was to start reading it that night. As I drove back to Denver I worked on trying to put Pena's answers into the theory I was working on. And no matter how I moved his answers around, there was nothing that derailed my new belief When I got to the DPD, I was told up in the SIU office that Scalari was out of the building, so I went to homicide and found Wexler behind his desk. I didn't see St. Louis around.

"Shit," Wexler said. "You here to bust my chops again?"

"No," I said. "You going to bust mine?"

"Depends on what you're going to ask me."

"Where's my brother's car? It back in service yet?"

"What is this, Jack? Can't you even conceive of the possibility that we know how to run an investigation?"

He angrily threw the pen he was holding into a trash can in the corner of the room. he then realized what he had done and went and picked it out.

"Look, I'm not trying to show you up or cause you any problems," I said in an even tone. "I'm just trying to settle all my questions and the more I try the more questions I have."