Regardless, she would do what she always did-her best. Approval from authority figures had never mattered much to Riley, but getting the job done did.

Grissom returned to the lab and pondered what he’d learned from Richard Waltham-and then pulled all the autopsy reports on apparent OD cases for the last two months.

Tox screens were done on all of them as a matter of course, but the process wasn’t foolproof; many poisons didn’t show up unless you were looking for them specifically, and there was no reason to keep looking once you found a toxin that matched the physical evidence.

Not unless the toxin you found didn’t kill your subject.

Grissom studied the reports carefully. He thought he found what he was searching for in the case of Gustav Janikov, a fifty-six-year-old man with no fixed address. Janikov had been found in an alley at the northeastern edge of Vegas three weeks ago, dead of an apparent cocaine overdose. A needle was found nearby containing a mixture of cocaine and water, with traces of blood that were a match to Janikov. The condition of the body and surrounding area suggested violent convulsions had taken place before death, and the mouth had been filled with saliva.

But the concentration of drugs in the bloodstream was wrong.

It was high, but not high enough to be lethal-not in a long-term addict who had developed a tolerance, and the number of ol d needle tracks on the body confirmed that Janikov was exactly that. While it was possible that Janikov’s body had simply given up the ghost after years of abuse, Grissom didn’t think so. There was something else at work.

Nick traced the thread back to a medical supply company called Willifer Surgical Providers, the only company in Nevada that carried it. They dealt mainly with hospitals but had a few clients who were dental surgeons; the chitin-based thread was infection resistant, which was important in a high-microbe environment like the human mouth.

Hospitals tended to have pretty good security. If the thread had been stolen, Nick was willing to bet it had probably been lifted from one of the dental surgeons. He did some checking and discovered that one, McKay Oral Health, had reported a burglary five weeks ago. Very little was taken, but suture supplies were one of the things listed as missing on the police report.

“Time for a trip to the dentist,” Nick murmured.

Gustav Janikov’s body had been disposed of, but his personal effects had remained unclaimed. They were spread out over the surface of the light table in front of Grissom now, the last pathetic remains of a life that had crashed and burned. A pair of stained and worn pants, a dirty T-shirt, a ripped ja cket held together with duct tape and safety pins.

The boots, though, were in surprisingly good condition. They were leather, ex-military, the heels and soles hardly worn, the laces practically new. Grissom looked inside, found the remains of a price tag still stuck near the top; they were from an army and navy surplus store in Vegas, one Grissom was familiar with. The stains on the clothes were many, and Grissom used surgical scissors to cut a small swatch from every one. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but it was possible that one of the stains held a higher concentration of whatever killed Gustav Janikov.

The samples went to Trace. Grissom went to the mall.

McKay Oral Health Offices was flanked on one side by an all-night convenience store and the other by a pawnshop. In another city this might have looked seedy, but in Vegas pawnshops and late-night stores were almost as common as casinos and wedding chapels.

The front door was locked, but there was a buzzer. Nick pressed it and was rewarded a minute later with the door opening.

And was greeted by a puppet.

“Hi there!” the puppet said. It was dressed like a dentist, in an old-fashioned white smock that buttoned up the front to one side. It had frizzy blue hair and gleaming white teeth, and peeked around the corner of the door. “Welcome to McKay Oral Health!”

“Uh, thanks. Is Doctor McKay in?”

A middle-aged man in white shirtsleeve s and suspenders stepped out from behind the door, the puppet cradled in one arm. “Sorry,” he said with a wide smile. “Can’t resist doing that from time to time. I once had a five-minute conversation with a guy who was selling aluminum siding.”

“I’m Nick Stokes, with the Vegas Crime Lab.” Nick smiled back. “I’m following up on the break-in you had five weeks ago.”

McKay stepped back. “Come in, come in. I was just doing a little rehearsing.”

Nick stepped inside and glanced around. The waiting room was tiny, only a single chair and a small desk with a computer on it. The standard diplomas and certificates hung on the wall, but the largest space was given over to a framed, glassed-in poster that showed a beaming Dr. McKay in a red tuxedo, with the puppet perched on his lap. DOC AND CHOMPERS, LIVE AT THE MIRADO ROOM! the lettering underneath read.

“Chompers, huh?” said Nick.

Chompers nodded. “I’m a star!” he said. McKay’s lips hardly moved at all. “This guy’s just my assistant. When I get a decent entourage he’s H-I-S-T-O… R…” He stopped.

“Y?” said Nick.

“Because he always forgets my damn coffee!” the puppet snapped.

Nick laughed. “I’m a little confused. I thought you were a surgeon, not a performer.”

McKay shrugged. “Who says I can’t be both? Dental surgery pays well enough that I don’t have to do it full-time, and I always got a kick out of ventriloquism. I made the puppet to calm down kids who were worried about having their teeth worked on, to show them exactly what I was going to do, and-well, things kinda snowballed. I’m not exactly a superstar, but I do a few shows here and there and enjoy myself.”

“Well, this is the town for that. So you’re not here all the time?”

“No, only a couple of days a week. I have a part-time receptionist, but she’s not in today.” McKay took the puppet off, set it down on the chair. “So, what brings you here today? You catch the guys?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m actually investigating another case, one I think might be related to the burglary at your office. I’ve read the police report, but would you mind going over it with me?”

“No, not at all. Let’s see… I was here by myself. I wasn’t operating that day, I was just doing a little office work. I heard the buzzer and went to the door. No Chompers, though.”

“And that’s when you first saw the suspect?”

“Yes. Older gentleman, in his fifties or sixties, quite thin. He said he wanted to talk to me about his granddaughter and possibly doing some sort of prese ntation for her school-it was a little vague, but I didn’t have any reason to be suspicious. He asked if he could come in out of the heat and maybe have a glass of water. I said sure.”

“Okay. What happened then?”

“There was this big commotion outside-lots of swearing and threats, and then this body smacks into my door. Cracked the glass but didn’t break it. I rush out to see what’s going on, and I see these two-street people, I guess, going at it right outside. I didn’t want to get involved, but I also didn’t want to be calling an ambulance when one of them went through a plate-glass window. I try to get them to calm down, and they just keep yelling at each other-something about how one of them stole the other one’s shoes. I forget all about the old guy in the office, until I hear the alarm on the fire door inside go off. I rush back in, but the old guy’s gone. I put two and two together, and sure enough the two that were fighting have disappeared, too.”

“Doesn’t sound like they took much, though.”

McKay shook his head. “Wasn’t much to take. Some painkillers, a topical anaesthetic I use for sensitive gums, and some surgical thread. I have no idea why they would even bother with the thread.”