“Well,” said Omar. He spread his hands, gesturing to the bodies strewn about. “You seem to be a handy person to have around, Ms. Ava.”

Ava shrugged. “They had a fizz gun. I simply turned it on them. Most people who carry such weapons believe such weapons themselves make them invincible. They are surprised to find it isn’t true.”

“The blond ladies who found us had no fizz guns,” said Priya. “But we had Imogen. She knows kung fu.”

“That wasn’t kung fu,” Ray Turnage said. “That was a good old-fashioned beatdown. The rest of us hardly had to lift a finger.”

Imogen sniffed and flexed her wrists. “I didn’t like their attitudes.”

“They were rather irritating,” Ava agreed.

“Is that who I think it is?” Priya said, pointing to the man in the cowboy hat slumped on the ground. It seems that Candi must have administered the eraser—whatever that was—because the man started to sing a tune. “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore . . .”

“That man should not be singing,” said Ray.

“Who do you think it is?” said Imogen.

“That man who’s always in the papers. The one who looks like a smug turtle. Luke Babson. Mike Goodstone. Something like that.”

Gunter knelt by the slumped man. “Mein Gott, it’s Duke Goodson. I’ve read about him, I’ve seen him on TV. A nasty fellow. Likes to pretend he’s a good old Southern boy, when he’s about as Southern as my great-grandmother Brunhilde. He works for all sorts of horrible people.”

“Like Slant?” Tess said.

“Like Slant,” said Gunter. “But he mostly works to enrich himself.”

“That’s a lot of people in this city,” Imogen said.

“I like pizza,” said Duke Goodson.

Gunter stood. “I suggest we call your mother, Tess. Anonymously. Tip her that Mr. Goodson here was seen digging up graves in Green-Wood Cemetery.”

“That might get him a whole different type of newspaper write-up,” Imogen said.

“I’ll call after we’re done here,” said Omar.

“Won’t they be able to identify your number?” Tess said.

“I have a scrambler phone,” Omar said.

“You do?” Ray said.

“I thought everybody did.”

“What were they looking for, anyway?” said Gino. He crouched beside the hole Theo and Tess and Jaime had dug by the Angel of Music.

“No idea,” said Jaime. “They were mad when they found the trunk empty.”

“Then they would make abysmal Cipherists,” said Priya. “Even an empty box can be a clue. Everything is a dead end until it’s not.”

“Dead ends,” said Ray. “Nice.”

“What?”

“Dead ends? We’re in a graveyard?”

“You and your puns,” Priya said.

“Hey! You were the one who said it!”

“Not intentionally.”

“Do you think they were trying to solve the Cipher?” said Priya.