So that was that. Hook settled back in his chair and closed his eyes.

In time Rider returned from the hospital, with a deputy and Sergeant Anderson, the young detective Hook had met the morning they found the drug overdose victim. As before, he looked relentlessly neat and fresh compared to Rider, who was tieless and red-eyed and in need of a shave.

Rider told Liz and Hook that he was sorry to have kept them waiting. “But you know these doctors,” he went on. “You and me, we could die in their waiting rooms and they wouldn’t bat an eye. But a felon—him they watch over like a mother hen. We ask a question, it’s like asking for a quart of the kid’s blood.”

“He’s all right, then,” Hood said.

“The nephew? Oh sure. Wasn’t hurt too bad. Aside from the damage you did, all he’s got is a concussion and a couple broken ribs. Thought he might be able to tell us a few things, but he don’t know from nothing. All ‘Uncle Bo’ told him was they were gonna meet someone up on the mountain, and that it might get hairy. The gun was the kid’s idea. I don’t think Parnelli even knew he owned one.”

“That can’t do much for your case,” Liz said.

Rider’s expression did not change. “Oh, I’d say our case is in pretty good shape. Good enough anyway to put our friend over there where he belongs.” He looked across the bullpen, at Douglas.

“Even though he’s not guilty,” Liz said.

Rider looked back at her. “Who’s not guilty?”

“You heard what Mr. Hook said—Bo’s confession. His dying confession.”

Hook had told him on the way to the hospital, and at the time Rider had not said much about it. Now he did.

“The law doesn’t make a distinction. They were both involved in the fight. So they’re both responsible for the boy’s death.”

Liz smiled in pain. “The law. The majesty of the law.”

“I don’t know about majesty. But it’s law, all right.”

Liz abandoned the subject. “When can I leave?” she asked.

“A few more minutes. You go with Sergeant Anderson here. A couple more points we want to have in your statement. Then you can cut out. You won’t need bail. We’ll see to the details.”

Getting up, Liz followed Anderson. And for the time it took the two of them to cross the bullpen and go through a doorway at the far end, Rider and Hook both stood there and watched. Earlier, Hook had seen Anderson lead a pale and frightened Icarus through that same door, and the similarity disturbed him now.

“What about her?” he asked. “She won’t have to serve time, will she?”

Rider shrugged. “That’ll be up to a judge. Conspiracy’s no misdemeanor.”

“She came to you, Sergeant.”

“That’ll be in her favor.” Rider regarded Hook ironically. “She kind of got to you, huh?”

“I like her, yes. I’d like to help her.”

“Is that all?”