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burglaries. This sort of blots the record.’’
    Lucas said, ‘‘The killer had to find the place in the dark—so he had to know where it was, exactly.’’
    ‘‘Unless he came after daylight,’’ Krause said. ‘‘That’s possible.’’
    ‘‘Yeah, but when we were coming in, your deputy—the one with the dog?—pointed out where this Robles guy was sitting, and generally where the other people were. So the killer would have to take a chance on being seen, unless he really knew the layout.’’
    ‘‘And if he knew all that, he’d probably be recognized by the others,’’ Sloan said. ‘‘Which means he probably came in when it was dark.’’
    ‘‘Unless he’s one of these guys,’’ Krause said. ‘‘These guys would have all the information, plus an excuse for walking around with guns . . . and they’d know that nobody would come looking at the sound of a shot.’’
    ‘‘It could be one of these guys,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘But it’d take guts.’’
    ‘‘Or a crazy man,’’ Sloan said.
    AT THE END OF THE TRACK THEY COULD SEE A HALFDOZEN people sitting and standing on the cabin porch, a man in a red plaid shirt talking animatedly to the others. A short man in a blue suit sat apart from them.
    ‘‘What’s the situation with these people?’’ Lucas asked as they started down the slope toward the cabin. ‘‘Who questioned them?’’
    ‘‘I did, and one of our investigators, Ralph—that’s Ralph in the blue suit.’’
    ‘‘Is he good?’’ Lucas asked.
    The sheriff thought for a minute and then said, ‘‘Ralph couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel.’’
    Sloan asked, ‘‘So how come . . . ?’’
    ‘‘I try to keep him out of the way, but he was at the office and answered the phone this morning.’’
    ‘‘Did he collect all the guns?’’ Lucas asked.
    ‘‘No, but I did,’’ Krause said. ‘‘Two of them had been fired—both people had deer to show for it. The others look clean.’’
    ‘‘I saw the deer hanging down by the cabin . . .’’ Lucas said. Then: ‘‘Get your crime scene guys to check their hands and faces for powder traces. And count shells—find out what they claim to have fired, and do a count.’’
    ‘‘I’m doing all that, except for the shells,’’ Krause said. He looked up at Lucas. ‘‘I’m going by the book. The whole book. My problem is more along the lines of interrogation and so on. Expertise.’’
    Lucas tipped his head at Sloan: ‘‘Sloan is the best interrogator in the state.’’
    Sloan grinned at the sheriff and said, ‘‘That’s true.’’
    ‘‘Then we’d like to borrow you for a while,’’ Krause said. ‘‘If you got the time.’’
    ‘‘Fine with me,’’ Sloan said. ‘‘Overtime is overtime.’’
    ‘‘Is there any possibility that you could do some running around Minneapolis for me?’’ Krause asked.
    Sloan looked at Lucas. ‘‘I’ve got a couple of things going
. . . Sherrill is doing research on that Shack thing, but she’s not getting much. Maybe she could do some running around.’’
    Lucas nodded. ‘‘I’ll call her this afternoon, on my way back. Anything you break out of these guys, call it down to her. I’ll have her talk to Kresge’s wife, check for girlfriends . . .’’
    ‘‘Or boyfriends,’’ Sloan said.
    ‘‘Or boyfriends. And I’ll have her start talking to people in his office—secretaries and so on.’’ Lucas looked at Krause. ‘‘I don’t want to take over your investigation . . .’’
    ‘‘No-no-no, don’t worry about that,’’ Krause said hastily.
    ‘‘The more you can do, the better. My best guys are busier’n two-dick dogs in a breeding kennel . . . And my other guys would have a hard time finding Minneapolis, much less anybody in it.’’
    ‘‘Sounds like you have some problems,’’ Sloan said. ‘‘First Arne, then Ralph . . .’’
    ‘‘We’re going through a transitional period,’’