"Busy day," I said.

"With zippo to show for it. I'm thinking this whole movie angle is a distraction. Especially with Item Three: the clerk from State Parole called me, God bless her. Turns out a Starkweather inmate was released, seven months ago. A guy named Wendell Pelley. Three weeks before Claire went to work there. It's a narrow window, but Pelley could've learned about Claire from some buddy still in there. Or Claire actually had contact with him. Think about it: her official start date was three weeks after Pelley got released, but what's to say she didn't go to Starkweather before then? To take a look, see if it was right for her. Let's say she runs into Pelley by accident-he's about to be sprung, so they make him a trusty-a tour guide, like Hatterson. She's coming there to help people, and here's a success story. It could be appealing to her, right?"

"Sure," I said, "but seven months ago means Pelley was released one month after Richard Dada's murder."

"So someone else did Dada. That's always been a possibility."

His tone said not to push it. "What's Pelley's background?" I said.

"White male, forty-six, got committed twenty-one years ago for shooting his girlfriend and her three little kids up in the Sierras-gold country. Apparently Pelley was trying to do some mining, brought the rest of them along to be one happy family, got drunk, convinced himself they were trying to rob his claim, and went berserk. Diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia, drug and booze history, too wacky for trial."

"Why'd they let him out?"

"Staff recommendation from Starkweather is all State Parole had."

"Swig approved the release," I said. "So he held back plenty."

"Shmuck. Never liked him. Gonna look into his background, but right now Pelley's whereabouts are my main concern."

"He's on the run?" I said. "Released inmates are supposed to get counseling and random drug tests."

"Funny thing 'bout that, isn't it? Pelley was bunking in a halfway house near MacArthur Park. The operators haven't seen him for a month. They claim they notified his parole officer right away. I tried to reach the P.O., no callback yet."

"Whom would the parole officer be obligated to notify?"

"The local police. Ramparts Division. They can't find any record of notification. The system, huh? "

"Would Swig be notified?"

"Maybe. If so, it's something else he held back on. Not that he's any use to us at this point. Pelley wouldn't be likely to run back to Starkweather."

"So what's next?" I said. "A statewide alert?"

"Nah," he said. "That's for TV Officially, Pelley hasn't done anything bad yet, so no way does State Parole or anyone else want to get the press on it, panic the public. If Ramparts does get notified, all it means is Pelley's face and stats go up on a bulletin board in the station, maybe if the desk's feeling real cooperative they issue photo memos for the squad car dashboards. Meaning if Pelley acts up publicly and a uniform gets there in time, he's busted. But if he doesn't cause problems, he can probably fade into the woodwork."

"Out on the streets three weeks before Claire joins the staff at Starkweather," I said. "You could be right. She met Pelley and he became her outpatient project."

"Hey," he said, "she told that psychiatrist she was ripe for it. 'So many madmen, so little time.' "

"And maybe Pelley and Peake maintained some sort of communication. Maybe Peake talked to him because they had some kind of rapport. They had one important thing in common: they both murdered families."

"As good a basis for friendship as I've ever heard." He cursed.

"Heidi never mentioned Policy's release. But she came on staff after Claire, might not have heard about it."

"I want to talk to Heidi again, anyway," he said. "So far she's the only one in that place showing any desire to help. She's due on shift at three. I'm gonna be out on the road all day, trying to trace Pelley, so I left a message with your number as backup. Okay?"

"Okay. I can also try that head psychiatrist at Starkweather- Aldrich-see what he knows about Pelley."

"No, not yet-I need to be discreet. If it turns out Pelley's our bad guy, whoever okayed his release is gonna be up the creek. No reason to warn them, give them time to get their defenses up. Give Swig a chance to get on the horn with Uncle Senator and unleash a paper barrier."

He sounded angry but exhilarated.

"You have a good feeling about this," I said.

"Don't know about that, but I will tell you one thing: this is a helluva lot more to my liking than movies and all that hocus-pocus about Peake's gibberish. This is the world as I know it: bad guy gets out on the street, bad things happen… Guess my faith in crappy endings has been validated once again."

I heated up some of the leftover soup and chewed on a hard roll as I thought about Milo's enthusiasm for Wendell Pelley.

In addition to his being clear for the Dada murder, Pelley had used a gun, not a knife. But maybe twenty-one years had changed his killing style. And he had bolted the halfway house.

Still, Milo was relying on what he hated most: theory. If he'd looked at it coldly, he might've tempered his enthusiasm. I hadn't said a thing. I'd continue to keep my doubts to myself. One thing doing therapy had taught me: timing is all.

My service rang at three-twenty-three. I'd been expecting a call from Heidi Ott, but the operator said, "It's a Dr. Hert-zlinger, from County General Hospital. She says it's about Dr. Argent."

"Put her on."

Click. "Dr. Delaware? Mary Hertzlinger. I was calling Detective Sturgis, but someone at the station gave me this number."

"He's out, asked me to take some messages. What's up?"

"After you and he left, I found myself thinking more about Claire. And I began to wonder if I'd misspoken. About that strange parting shot-'So many madmen, so little time.'You asked me if Claire seemed upset when she said it, and I said no, she was actually smiling. But the more I considered it, the more I realized how unlike Claire the remark was. Because she'd never joked before. Never displayed any sense of humor, really. I don't mean that unkindly-she was just a very serious person. Off the job, I try not to analyze people, but you know how it is. Anomalies attract me."

"Me, too. Occupational hazard."

She laughed softly. "Anomalies also make me wonder about anxiety."

"You think Claire was anxious about switching jobs?"

"It's just speculation," she said, "but she just rattled off that line as if she'd rehearsed it. Had been reciting it to herself. Because, let's face it, it was a strange thing to do. Claire's job was secure, Dr. Theobold liked her. To just pick up and leave for a place like Starkweather? She'd never worked with patients, let alone homicidal psychotics. It really doesn't make sense."

"Maybe after doing all that research, she wanted to help people directly."

"Then why Starkweather? Who gets help there?"

"So you're saying the decision scared her but she went ahead, anyway," I said.

"Yes, but that doesn't make sense, either, does it? If she was nervous, why do it? I'll bet if she'd marched into Dr. Theobold's office and announced she'd changed her mind, he'd have taken her back in a flash, no questions asked. So it's confusing. I tried to think back, what her demeanor had been as we cleaned out those boxes. What we'd been talking about. I couldn't remember much, but I did recall something: she mentioned leaving some material behind in the office closet, said she'd be back for it later in the afternoon. But I was in the office all day and she never returned. Ever. After I met you, I went to check, and sure enough, there it was, back in a corner. Two cartons with her name on them. The flaps were closed but not sealed, so I opened one up-I hope I didn't ruin anything by doing that?"