Rider brought the girl over to his car now and helped her into the back seat as if she were old and infirm.

“Not much I can do here anymore,” he said to Hook. “The kid’s going to stay and wrap up. So you can get in front. And do me a favor. Keep an eye on her. Christ knows what she’s got inside her. They had enough drugs in that heap to turn on the whole county.”

As Rider wheeled the car around and drove off, the girl smiled sweetly at Hook. “Are you fuzz too?” she asked.

“No.”

“But I suppose you think Jimmy’s dead the same as they do.”

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Of course not. There are things you don’t know. Things nobody knows.”

Hook felt awkward talking to her, but he did not want to ignore her. “About Jimmy?” he asked.

“About everything. Things you can’t imagine. Not without stuff.”

Rider shook his head in disgust. “Smack, she means. Heroin.”

“That’s not all,” she protested. “I mean what’s inside, too. Your karma. But what would you know about that? About anything?”

“Is Jimmy still alive?” Hook asked her.

“Everything, everywhere, is always alive. At all times. It can’t die. There is no death. Things just change form, that’s all.” She looked out the window now with childish surprise and pleasure. “Hey, I like it around here. It’s very pretty. It’s not like where I’m from.”

“Where’s that?” Hook asked.

“What?”

“Where are you from?”

But suddenly her eyes had widened in panic. “My bag!” she cried. “Where’s my bag?”

“Don’t worry,” Rider said. “We’ve got it. All of it.”

“Give it to me.”

“Can’t do that, miss. It’s evidence now.”

She pressed her fists against her face and huddled down in the corner of the seat. “Give it to me. Please give it to me,” she begged. “Jimmy, help me. Please, Jimmy.”

Rider shook his head. “Sweet little job I’ve got, huh?”

Hook did not answer. He had decided it was time to get down to business, his business. “About the letter,” he said.

“What about it?”

“What’re you going to do?”

“What do you think I ought to do?”

“Well, does it sound to you like the letter of a boy about to kill himself?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“And the postmark?”

“Yeah, I noticed. It leaves a day unaccounted for.”

“All right, then.”

“All right, then, what?”

“Then aren’t you going to confront the women with it? Question them again?”

“You think it’d do any good?”

“Well, I sure as hell think it’s your duty to find out.” It had slipped out in anger.

Rider grinned coldly. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for pointing out my duty. Then I guess it’s also my duty to tell you this Icarus character your boy stayed with is a flaming fairy. With a record. And that don’t help your case one little bit.”

The first part did not surprise Hook; the second did. “A record? For what?”