“And saw you go in and come out.”

“In my pretty green coat. Then he tagged me to the place where I had lunch, and then he picked me up when I left, except this time it wasn’t me.”

“It was Louis Minot.”

“Wearing my coat. A day like that, rain coming down hard, he wouldn’t get too good a look at my face. The coat would do it. He stayed with the coat. Minot walked over to the Common, the shooter followed him, picked his moment…”

“Bang bang.”

“Or pop pop, if he used a suppressor.”

“Who knew you were going to Exeter Street? Answer: the client. But I still can’t believe it.”

“The cops believe it.”

“How’s that?”

“We already know what color Minot ’s coat was. Do you want to guess what he had in the pockets?”

“The keys and the knife.”

“Letter opener.”

“Whatever. I forgot about them, Keller. The cops made the connection?”

“Well, how could they miss it? One guy’s stabbed to death and another guy turns up dead less than a mile away with a letter opener in his pocket? They found blood traces on it, too.”

“I thought you wiped it.”

“I wiped it, I didn’t run it through a car wash. They found traces. Probably not enough for a DNA match, but they can type it, and it’ll be the same type as Thurnauer’s.”

“And the letter opener fits the wound.”

“Right. And the keys fit the locks.”

She nodded slowly. “Not hard to reconstruct. Minot moved up in class and took a contract, iced Thurnauer on Exeter Street and kept a date on Boston Common to get paid off. And got shot instead, bang bang or pop pop, because dead men tell no tales.”

“That’s how they figure it.”

“But we know better, don’t we, Keller? Minot said ‘Why not?’ to the wrong coat, and got himself killed by mistake. By somebody working for our client.”

“You just got finished saying you couldn’t believe it.”

“Well, what choice have I got, Keller? I have to believe it, whether I want to or not.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh?”

“I was up most of the night,” he said. “Thinking about things. Do you remember Louisville?”

“Do I remember Louisville? As if I could forget. The smell of bluegrass, the taste of a tall mint julep in a frosty glass. The packed stands at Churchill Downs, the horses thundering down the stretch. Keller, I’ve never been to Louisville, so what’s to remember?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Your trip there, the other time you had a bad feeling. And a husband tracked his cheating wife to your motel and killed her and her boyfriend in your old room.”

“Capped them with two in the head from a twenty-two.”

“Jesus Christ. But they got the husband for it, remember?”

“He didn’t do it.”

“You sure?”

“The cops are,” he told her. “His alibi held up.”

“Do they have anybody else they like for it?”

“I don’t think they’re looking too hard,” he said, “because they still like the husband. They think he arranged it, although he doesn’t seem like the kind of a guy who could arrange a three-car funeral. But they think he hired someone else to follow the wife and kill her in the act. Because it sure looked like a pro hit.”

“Two in the head, di dah di dah di dah.”

“Rings a bell, doesn’t it?”

“Ding fucking dong. A whole carillon. Give me a minute, will you? And turn that damn thing off, I can’t hear myself think.”

The TV had the sound off, the way she generally had it, but he knew what she meant. He hit the Power button and the screen went dark.

After a long moment she said, “It wasn’t the client in Louisville and it’s not the client in Boston. It was somebody else who was after you personally.”

“Only way it adds up.”

“Only way I can see, Keller. It can’t be some avenging angel, has to even the score for Thurnauer or the guy in Louisville -“

“Hirschhorn.”

“Whatever. In Boston he staked the place out, waited for you to do it, then made his move. He didn’t care if Thurnauer got killed, just so he got his shot at you.”

“And in Louisville…”

“In Louisville he must have been watching Hirschhorn’s house. After you gassed the guy in his garage, he followed you back to the motel and-“

“And?”

“Doesn’t work, does it? He couldn’t have followed you back to the room you already checked out of twelve hours ago.”

“Keep going, Dot.”

“I’ll tell you, it’d be easier if I had a map and a flashlight. I’m in the dark here. If he went to the wrong room, the old room, it’s because he already knew where you were staying. He knew about the room before you did Hirschhorn.”

“Bingo.”

“Definitely not the client,” she said, “because how would he know where you were staying? He didn’t even know who you were. Keller, I’m bumping into the furniture here. Help me out, will you?”

“Remember the drunk?”

“Looking for his friend, wasn’t he? What was the friend’s name?”

“What difference does it make?”

“None. Forget it.”

“The name was Ralph, if it matters, but-“

“How could it matter? He didn’t exist, did he? Ralph, I mean. Obviously the drunk existed, except I don’t suppose he was really drunk.”

“Probably not.”

“He knew where you were staying. How did he know? You didn’t make any calls from your room, did you?”

“I don’t think so. If I used the room phone at all, it was well after he came knocking on my door.”

“And you didn’t use your own name at the motel?”

“Of course not.”

“Must have tagged you from the airport, then. Or he put a homing device on your car, but the client gave you the car, and we already established that the client didn’t do this. Somebody else knew you were coming, or else, Jesus, followed you out from New York -is that possible?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure enough. Look, I think I know who it was.”

“Who, for God’s sake?”

“Go back to Louisville for a minute. I get off the plane and there’s a guy there to meet me.”

“As arranged.”

“As arranged, and there’s another guy, has a sign I can’t make out. I walk up to him until I’m almost in his face, trying to read what’s on his sign.”

“That’s the guy?”

“I think so.”

“Because he can’t spell?”

“Because he wasn’t waiting for anybody, unless you count me. Look, Dot, it has to be somebody who doesn’t know who I am.”

“What does he do, just kill people at random?”

“He knows what I do,” he said, “but not who I am. If he knew my name and address he wouldn’t have to chase all over the country after me. Why go after me when I’m working and on guard? Between jobs, what do I do? Watch a movie, take a walk, go out for a meal.”

“Maybe he wants a challenge.”

“No,” he said, “I don’t think so. I think he knew the guy who was meeting me, knew him by sight, and knew he was going to the airport to pick up the out-of-town shooter. So he made a sign of his own, one that wouldn’t match anybody coming off a plane, and he stood around and waited. And then I showed up and made sure he got a good close look at me.”

“And then you went to the right guy, and that confirmed the ID.”

“Who followed us to the car they had for me in long-term parking. And when I drove off in it he got on my tail.”

“Straight to the motel.”

“I stopped for a bite on the way, and looked at a map, but then I went and found a motel, and I wouldn’t have been hard to tail. I wasn’t looking out for it. I didn’t have any reason to.”

“And he came and knocked on your door. Suppose you open up. Then what? Bang bang?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? Be easy, wouldn’t it?”

“It would have been easy any time during the next couple of days. But he waited until I did Hirschhorn. And in Boston he waited until I got Thurnauer.”

“What is he, polite? He lets the other person go first?”

“Evidently.”

“A real gentleman,” she said. “I’m trying to sort this out, Keller. He came looking for Ralph to make sure he was right about what room you were in. Then, once he knew for sure, he sat tight.”