I believed what Keller said-I heard the soft throb of the drums in the distance, and it wasn’t much fun for me, either.

“Does anybody still worship this guy?” Deborah asked.

Keller shook his head. “Not for two thousand years, as far as I know,” he said.

“Well then, what the hell,” Deborah said. “Who’s doing this?”

“It isn’t any kind of secret,” Keller said. “It’s a pretty well-documented part of history. Anybody could have done a little research and found out enough to do something like this.”

“But why would they?” Deborah said.

Keller smiled politely. “I’m sure I don’t know,” he said.

“So what the hell good does any of that do me?” she said, with a tone that suggested it was Keller’s job to come up with an answer.

He gave her a kindly professor smile. “It never hurts to know things,” he said.

“For instance,” I said, “we know that somewhere there must be a big statue of a bull with a furnace inside.”

Deborah snapped her head around so that she faced me.

I leaned close to her and said softly, “Halpern.” She blinked at me and I could see she hadn’t thought of that yet.

“You think it wasn’t a dream?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “But if somebody is doing this Moloch thing for real, why wouldn’t he do it with all the proper equipment?”

“Goddamn it,” Deborah said. “But where could you hide something like that?”

Keller coughed with a certain delicacy. “I’m afraid there’s more to it than that,” he said.

“Like what?” Deborah demanded.

“Well, you’d have to hide the smell, too,” he said. “The smell of cooking human bodies. It lingers, and it’s rather unforgettable.” He sounded a little bit embarrassed and he shrugged.

“So we’re looking for a gigantic smelly statue with a furnace inside,” I said cheerfully. “That shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Deborah glared at me, and once again I had to feel a little disappointed at her heavy-handed approach to life-especially since I would almost certainly join her as a permanent resident in the Land of Gloom if the Dark Passenger refused to behave and come out of hiding.

“Professor Keller,” she said, turning away from me and completing the abandonment of her poor brother, “is there anything else about this bull shit that might help us?”

It was certainly a clever enough remark to be encouraging, and I almost wished I had said it, but it appeared to have no effect on Keller, nor even on Deborah herself, who looked as though she was unaware that she had said something notable. Keller merely shook his head.

“It’s not really my area, I’m afraid,” he said. “I know just a little background stuff that affects the art history. You might check with somebody in philosophy or comparative religion.”

“Like Professor Halpern,” I whispered again, and Deborah nodded, still glaring.

She turned to go and luckily remembered her manners just in time; she turned back to Keller and said, “You’ve been very helpful, Dr. Keller. Please let me know if you think of anything else.”

“Of course,” he said, and Debs grabbed my arm and propelled me onward.

“Are we going back to the registrar’s office?” I asked politely as my arm went numb.

“Yeah,” she said. “But if there’s a Tammy enrolled in one of Halpern’s classes, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

I pulled the tattered remnants of my arm from her grip. “And if there isn’t?”

She just shook her head. “Come on,” she said.

But as I passed by the body once more, something clutched at the leg of my pants, and I looked down.

“Ahk,” Vince said to me. He cleared his throat. “Dexter,” he said, and I raised an eyebrow. He flushed and let go of my pants. “I have to talk to you,” he said.

“By all means,” I said. “Can it wait?”

He shook his head. “It’s pretty important,” he said.

“Well, all right then.” I took the three steps back to where he was still squatting beside the body. “What is it?”

He looked away, and as unlikely as it was that he would show real emotion, his face flushed even more. “I talked to Manny,” he said.

“Wonderful. And yet you still have all your limbs,” I said.

“He, ahm,” Vince said. “He wants to make a few changes. Ahm. In the menu. Your menu. For the wedding.”

“Aha,” I said, in spite of how corny it sounds to say “Aha” when you are standing beside a dead body. I just couldn’t help myself. “By any chance, are these expensive changes?”

Vince refused to look up at me. He nodded his head. “Yes,” he said. “He said he’s had an inspiration. Something really new and different.”

“I think that’s terrific,” I said, “but I don’t think I can afford inspiration. We’ll have to tell him no.”

Vince shook his head again. “You don’t understand. He only called because he likes you. He says the contract allows him to do whatever he wants.”

“And he wants to raise the price a wee bit?”

Vince was definitely blushing now. He mumbled a few syllables and tried to look away even further. “What?” I asked him. “What did you say?”

“About double,” he said, very quietly, but at least audible.

“Double,” I said.

“Yes.”

“That’s $500 a plate,” I said.

“I’m sure it will be very nice,” said bright-red Vince.

“For $500 a plate it had better be more than nice. It had better park the cars, mop the floor, and give all the guests a back rub.”

“This is cutting-edge stuff, Dexter. You’ll probably get your wedding in a magazine.”

“Yes, and it will probably be Bankruptcy Today. We have to talk to him, Vince.”

He shook his head and continued to look at the grass. “I can’t,” he said.

Humans are wonderful combinations of silly, ignorant, and dumb, aren’t they? Even the ones who are pretending most of the time, like Vince. Here he was, a fearless forensic tech, actually within inches of a gruesomely murdered body that had no more effect on him than a tree stump, and yet he was paralyzed with terror at the thought of facing a tiny man who sculpted chocolate for a living.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll talk to him myself.”

He looked up at me at last. “Be careful, Dexter,” he said.

I CAUGHT UP WITH DEBORAH AS SHE WAS TURNING HER CAR around, and happily, she paused long enough for me to climb in for a ride to the registrar’s office. She had nothing to say on the short drive over, and I was too preoccupied with my own problems to care.

A quick search of the records with my new friend at the registrar’s office turned up no Tammy in any of Halpern’s classes. But Deborah, who had been pacing back and forth while she waited, was ready for that. “Try last semester,” she said. I did; again nothing.

“All right,” she said with a frown. “Then try Wilkins’s classes.”

It was a lovely idea, and to prove it, I got an immediate hit: Ms. Connor was in Wilkins’s seminar on situational ethics.

“Right,” Deborah said. “Get her address.”

Tammy Connor lived in a residential hall that was only moments away, and Deborah wasted no time in getting us over there and parking illegally in front of it. She was out of the car and marching toward the front door before I could even get my door open, but I followed along as quickly as I could.

The room was on the third floor. Deborah chose to vault up the stairs two at a time rather than waste time pushing the button for an elevator, and since this left me with not enough breath to complain about it, I didn’t. I got there just in time to see the door to Tammy’s room swing open to reveal a stocky girl with dark hair and glasses. “Yes?” she said, frowning at Deborah.

Debs showed her badge and said, “Tammy Connor?”

The girl gasped and put a hand to her throat. “Oh, God, I knew it,” she said.

Deborah nodded. “Are you Tammy Connor, miss?”