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on Shepard Road.”
    “Loy.”
    Al nodded.
    “Did he say who did it?”
    “He was about to, but somebody stopped him. There was another man’s voice on the tape in the background, but it was garbled, so we don’t know who it was.”
    “That had to have been Bob’s killer.”
    “No comment.”
    “But Bob must have said something to give you a lead.”
    “Maybe.”
    “Will that be in the newspaper or do I have to beat it out of you?”
    Al studied Bram for a moment, then took a sip of coffee. “It sounded like Fabian was about to say his brother killed Loy.”
    Bram whistled.
    “But he didn’t finish his sentence. So, for all we know, he may have been going somewhere else with it. A good defense lawyer could drive a truck through a hole that big. And even if he did mean to say that his brother was the one who killed Loy, that still leaves us with a problem. Which brother? Fabian’s brother-in-law, Phil Banks, or his half brother, Andy Gladstone.”
    “Was the entire 911 tape leaked to the press, or just the fact of its existence?”
    “We’ve got the tape locked up. Nobody’s got access to it but us. But yeah, I think the press has a transcript.”
    Bram tapped a finger to his lips. “I saw you at Bob’s funeral the other day. I figured you weren’t there just to pay your respects.”
    “You saying I got no compassion?”
    Bram spread his arms wide. “Why don’t you haul Andy and Phil in, shine a bright light in their eyes, and apply your thumbscrews?”
    “You watch too many dumb movies.”
    “But you’ve talked to them, right?”
    “Like I said, it’s complicated.” Al took the last cookie out of the sack.
    “And I wouldn’t understand.”
    “No, you’d probably get it, but I can’t talk about it. I’ve already said too much.”
    “You eat all my cookies and then you have the nerve to hold out on me?”
    “Guess so,” said Al, crunching up the sack and tossing it at Bram’s chest.
    Bram thought he’d had the real story nailed, but now he wasn’t so sure. What the press had reported so far must be only the tip of the iceberg. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he had a little over a minute to get to the sound booth before his program started. “Between you and me, just give me a hint.”
    “Between you and me?”
    “Goes no farther than this room.”
    Al rose from the chair, dropping the last cookie into his side pocket of his suit coat. “Okay. Listen carefully, pal. I’m only going to say this once.” He placed his hands on the desk, bent closer to Bram, and whispered, “Rosebud.” Then he winked.
    “Asshole.”
    “No comment.”

7
    Chris walked out of the bedroom, toweling her long, curly brown hair dry. As she stood on the balcony that enclosed a section of the second floor, she looked down into the living room. Phil was crouched low next to the front windows, gazing at the street in front of the house through a crack in the curtains. “What’s going on?” she asked, curious about what might be happening outside.
    “It’s that damn car again.”
    “What car?”
    “The one that followed us home last night.”
    “I didn’t see a car.”
    “That’s because you weren’t looking. I’m being tailed. Have been for several days.”
    This was the first Chris had heard of it. “By who?”
    “The cops.”
    “Why?”
    “They’ve got to nail somebody for those two murders.”
    Chris was aghast. “But you were nowhere near those locations that night. I should know.”
    “You think that matters to them ?” He jabbed his forefinger at the curtain. “They just need a warm body with a potential motive.”
    “What motive? You liked your brother-in-law. And the idea that you’d ever hurt someone—it’s ridiculous.”
    “Tell that to the plainclothes jerk out in the car.”
    “Fine,” said Chris, marching down the stairs into the living room. “I will.”
    Phil turned around and grabbed her by the waist just as she steamed past him toward the front door. “God,