Ten minutes after Jamilla left to catch her plane back to San Francisco, Kyle appeared at my desk. He looked like a rumpled, tweedy, forty-something professor who had just emerged from his library carrel after days of researching a scholarly piece for the criminal justice journals.
‘You crack the code?’ I asked him. ‘If you did, can I get a flight out of here tonight? I’m catching hell at home for being here.’ ‘I didn’t crack a goddamn thing,’ he complained. Then he yawned.
‘My head feels a little cracked. Like there’s a slow leak or something.’
He rubbed his knuckles back and forth against his skull.
‘You believe in new age vampires yet?’I asked.’Role-players?’ He gave me one of his crooked little half-smiles. ‘Oh, I always believed in vampires. Ever since I was a boy in Virginia and then North Carolina. Vampires, ghosts, zombies, other diabolical creatures of the night. Southerners believe in such things. It’s our Gothic heritage, I suppose. Actually, ghosts are more our specialty. I definitely believe in ghosts. I wish this was only a ghost story.’
‘Maybe it is. I saw a ghost the other night. Her name was Mary Alice Richardson. These bastards hung and murdered her during one of their pleasure rests.’
Around nine, Kyle and I finally left the station house in Brentwood to get some grub and maybe a few beers. I was pleased to have some time with him. Bad thoughts were buzzing in my head: disconnected
feelings, suspicions, and general paranoia about the case. And, of course, there was always the Mastermind to worry about. He might call, or send a fax, or email.
We stopped at a small bar called The Knoll on the way back to the hotel. It looked like a quiet place to have a drink and talk. Kyle and I often did this when we were on the road together.  ‘So how are you doing, Alex?’ Kyle asked after he’d taken a sip of Anchor Steam. ‘You all right? Holding up so far? I know you don’t like being away from Nana and the kids. I’m sorry about that. Can’t be helped. This is a big case.’
I was too tired to argue with him. ‘In the words of Tiger Woods, “I didn’t have my A game today.” I’m a little stumped, Kyle. This is all new and all bad.’
He nodded and said, ‘I don’t mean today. Overall. In general. On balance. How the hell are you doing? You seem tense to me. We’ve all been noticing it, Alex. You don’t volunteer much at St Anthony’s anymore. Little things like that.’
I looked at him, studied his intense, brown eyes. He was a frie............