"Coffee, Tom?"

He declined, gosh-thanks, and turned back to the woods.

Jamie walked outside, slipping a T-shirt on over his thin muscular body. He was the epitome of grace and she enjoyed watching him climb on his bike and balance while he pulled on his fingerless riding gloves.

"Where're you off to?"

"Practice."

"When's the match?"

"Saturday."

"How's your arm?"

"It's like fine. No problem."

"Garage looks nice."

"Thanks. I did the windows. They were totally gross."

"You did the windows?" she asked in mock astonishment.

"Very funny. And I found the old Frisbee."

"We'll play tonight, you and me."

"Yeah, okay. We oughta get a glow-in-the-dark one. Gotta go." He pushed the bike forward without using his hands and coasted down the driveway as he closed the Velcro fasteners on his gloves. She watched him lean forward and his muscular legs start to pedal. He's going to be a heartbreaker.

Inside the house Sarah was playing with a stuffed animal. After Diane had delivered the news that the school was over for the year, the girl glowed with Christmas-morning happiness. This bothered Diane, who saw in the girl's face the look of a spoiled child who finally got her way.

"The Sunshine Man… He came back."

"Did he now?" Diane asked absently.

"He saved me from Mrs. Beiderbug."

"Sarah. I've told you about that."

"Mrs. Beidersora." She sprang up and ran into the kitchen.

Diane hung up her jacket. "Who's the Sunshine Man again? Which one's he?"

"Mommy." She was exasperated. "He's the wizard who lives in the woods. I saw him again today. I thought he'd gone away but he came back. He cast a spell on Mrs. Beider -" She grinned with coy nastiness. "- Beidersorc. And I don't have to go back to school."

"Just for the term. Not forever."

Although the girl's insistence that magical characters were real frequently irritated Diane, at the moment she wished that she herself had a Sunshine Man to watch over her shoulder. Or at least to cast a spell and cough up some big bucks for special ed tuition. As she looked through the mail she asked, "Your father call?"

"Naw."

Diane went into the kitchen and took four large pork chops from the refrigerator. She chopped mushrooms and sauteed them with oregano and bread crumbs then let the filling cool while she cut pockets in the pork.

"You sure your father didn't call? Maybe Jamie took a message."

"Mom. Like there's the board. Do you see any messages?"

"You can answer me decently," Diane snapped.

"Well, he didn't call."

Diane carefully cut a slit in the last pork chop.

"I'm not going back to school ever again," Sarah announced.

"Sarah, I told you, it's just for -"

The girl walked upstairs, singing cheerfully to herself, "Never ever again… The Sunshine Man, the Sunshine Man…"

Children. Sometimes…

The young woman said, "I believe it was Leon Gilchrist."

Cynthia Abrams was a thin sophomore, smart and reasonable and unpretentious. Corde liked her. She had long shimmering dark hair, confident eyes, earrings in the shape of African idols. She was a class officer and the campus director of ACT-UP. She was sitting forward, elbows on the low desk in the Student Union, holding a cigarette courteously away from him while she answered his questions.

Corde glanced down and found the professor's name on a card. A note said that Leon Gilchrist had been in San Francisco at the time of the first killing and had not returned as of three days ago. He put a question mark next to the name.

"And you think they had an affair?"

"I don't know for sure. I heard several rumors that she'd gone out with professors over the past couple of years. One or two she was pretty serious about. Then I recently heard Professor Gilchrist's name mentioned."

"Who did you hear this from? About Gilchrist?"

"I don't remember."

"Do you know if there was any bad feelings between them?"

"No. I don't really know anything at all. I'm just telling you what I heard."

Corde glanced at his open briefcase and saw the picture of Jennie Gebben. "Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to hurt Jennie or her roommate?"

"No, I sure don't. But I want to say something else. You seem like a reasonable man and I hope I can speak frankly to you."

"Go right ahead."

"The gay community at Auden is not popular in New Lebanon."

This was hardly news to Bill Corde, who had been on a panel to recommend to the state legislature that consensual homosexual activity be removed from the penal code as a sexual crime – both because he thought it was nobody's business but the participants' and because criminalizing it skewed statistics and confused investigations. He had never heard such vicious words as those fired back and forth in the Harrison County Building public meeting room during the panel discussions.

She asked, "You know Jennie was bisexual?"

"Yes, I do."

"That fact hasn't come out in the press yet but if it does I'm concerned it will get mixed up with, you know, cult or Satanic aspects of the murders. I abhor the linking of homosexuality and violence."

"I don't see why that connection would be made," Corde said. "It certainly won't come from my department…"

Somewhere in Corde's mind was a soft tap as a thought rose to the surface.

"Was Emily…" What was the proper terminology? He felt on some eggshells here. "Was she a lesbian?"

"I don't know. I didn't know her very well."

"You think Jennie might have been targeted because she was bisexual?"

"A bias-related crime?"

"We don't have those laws on the books here."

She lifted a coy eyebrow. "I graduate in two years. I hope that will have changed by then."

"I'm thinking more in terms of helping me with a motive."

"I suppose. There's always the possibility of antigay violence in areas that are less…" Now she trod lightly. "… enlightened than some."

Corde considered this motive but he couldn't carry it very far. He wanted all of his cards in front of him. He wanted to read what other students and professors had told him. He wanted more information about Emily.

He said, "This has been very helpful. Anything else you can think of?"

"There is one thing I'd like to say."

"What's that?"

"My roommate, Victoria, and I were having this discussion last night?"

"Yes?"

"She brought up the idea of surgically castrating rapists. Would you be interested in signing a petition to send to the state legislature?"

Corde said. "I better not. In the Sheriffs Department, we're not supposed to be too, you know, political."

He couldn't recall the last time he felt so unwelcome.

"Detective, I think it's pretty clear that you're dealing with some kind of crazy person. Some psychopath. He is not a student, it is clearly not a professor. Everyone on this faculty has the highest credentials and the most impeccable background. Your rumormongering is despicable."

"Yes'm," Corde said to Dean Catherine Larraby. "I was asking about Leon Gilchrist? You didn't really answer my question."

"You're not suggesting that he had anything to do with the deaths of these two girls?"

"Has he ever been in any trouble with students? Here or at another school?"

The dean whispered, "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer. Leon Gilchrist is a brilliant scholar. We're lucky to have him on staff and -"

"I've heard from a number of sources that Jennie had relations with at least one professor. One person I interviewed thinks Gilchrist might be him."

"Professors at Auden are forbidden to date students. Doing so is grounds for dismissal. Who told you?"