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mussing his good clothes. He decided to go to Project Blackout’s house. He walked to South Hydraulic. When he reached the front of Blackout’s house, he saw a little boy walking toward him carrying a soup can.
    Time to play detective. He pulled out the photo of his own wife and son.
    Have you seen these people? he asked.
    The boy looked at the photograph. No, he said.
    Are you sure?
    Yes.
    The boy walked away.
    Rader watched him for a moment, and then walked to Blackout’s door. He glanced down the street again and saw the boy looking at him.
    Rader knocked on Blackout’s door. When he got no answer, he walked to the boy’s house.
    Steven’s brother and sister were playing when Steven came home; Bud was eight, Stephanie four. Steven crawled into bed with his mother. Moments later, he heard a knock and sprinted for the door. So did Bud; they liked to race. Steven beat Bud this time and opened the door, but only a crack. He peered out. It was the briefcase man.
    Steven’s mother put on her housecoat and went to the door. The man towered over the children as he peered through the crack. When he saw their mother, he pushed the door open.
    I’m a detective, he said.
    He showed Shirley a fake business card. He took a step inside, then another. Then he pushed the door shut and pulled out the gun.
    Don’t hurt us, Shirley said.
    Rader said disarming things to Shirley, similar to what he had said to the Oteros and Brights. But then he embellished his story: he had a sex fantasy problem. He would tie her up, have sex, take some pictures. It would not be a pleasant thing, he said, but everyone would be okay.
    He saw that she wore a blue housecoat over a pink nightgown and looked sick. She had lit a cigarette. He looked at her with distaste: she was a mess. The kids are sick, she said; we’ve been sick for days. She tried to talk him into leaving as he pulled down the shades. He spoke harshly. It’s going to happen, he said.
    The phone rang.
    Someone was calling to check on her, Shirley said, because she was sick, because she had kept the kids home from school.
    Should we answer it? Steven asked.
    No, Rader said.
    They let it ring. It made him nervous; the caller might decide to stop by. He would have to move fast now. He told her he was going to tie up the children.
    Don’t do that, she said.
    I’ve got to, he said. He opened his briefcase�his hit kit, he called it. He took out rope and started to tie up the older boy, who started to scream.
    Frustrated, he told her to help shut the kids in the bathroom, which had two doors. He tied the west door shut from the inside, looping cord around the knob and tying it under the sink. There were toys on the living room floor: an airplane, a fire truck, a little car. He dumped them into the bathroom for the kids and tossed in blankets and pillows. Comforting them, he said later. You guys stay in here, he told the kids. They looked frightened, but he was talking quietly to keep everyone calm.

    Rader threw blankets and toys into the bathroom where he’d locked Shirley Vian’s children to keep them quiet while he killed their mother.
    He took their mother into her bedroom, shut the east bathroom door, and shoved her bed against it to block it. When he got done with the mother, he might hang the little girl, if there was time, but he was upset about the phone ringing. Someone was always interrupting.
    He stripped off the woman’s clothes.
    Oh, I am so sick, she said.
    He wrapped electrical tape around her forearms and calves. There was a sequence to what he did: he taped people first, because that got them under control quickly. Then he could take his time binding them with knotted cord.
    Rader tied her wrists with cord and a nylon stocking, then tied her ankles with cord. In the bathroom, the children were screaming, pounding on the door. “Leave my mother alone, leave my mother alone, get out of here!” Steven yelled. “I’m gonna break out of here!”
    I don’t think you