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named Jimmy Campbell.”
    Hoffman stared back, surprised. “That name’s not on the list.”
    “I know,” Matthews said, and then began to explain why he had called Campbell in and what he had learned during the interview.
    When he finished, Hoffman was beside himself with excitement. “That’s it. There’s our fucking guy,” he said, halfway out of his seat.
    Matthews held up his hand. “What are you talking about? You’re not even listening to me.” He pointed to his notes, where everything of real importance was spelled out:
    The following are the relevant questions asked of Mr. Campbell during his polygraph examination:
    Concerning Adam’s disappearance, do you intend to answer all my questions truthfully?
    Answer: Yes.
    Do you know who took Adam?
    Answer: No.
    Do you know where Adam is now?
    Answer: No.
    Did you conspire with anyone to cause Adam’s disappearance?
    Answer: No.
    Are you withholding information from the police concerning Adam’s disappearance?
    Answer: No.
    Do you suspect anyone of taking Adam?
    Answer: No.
    Do you know who took Adam?
    Answer: No.
    Did you take Adam?
    Answer: No.
    “I worked him every which way. He’s not involved,” Matthews assured Hoffman.
    “Bullshit,” Hoffman responded, shaking Matthews’s report between them. “You tell me the guy was living in the house, doing what you say he was, and he’s not involved in the crime somehow?”
    Matthews sighed. He knew what he’d written down, what Hoffman was so worked up about. In fact, he had realized very early on in his interview with Campbell that the young man was holding something back, and it had not taken Matthews long to draw his secret out.
    However, as with John Walsh, Matthews had gone to considerable lengths to determine just who he was dealing with before he got around to any pointed questions concerning the here and now. It was quickly apparent that Jimmy Campbell’s childhood had been an unfortunate one: he had never received much affection from his own parents, and he might well have taken that deprivation out on the world in turn, just as many of the miscreants Matthews dealt with on a daily basis had. Instead, Campbell turned out sweet and gentle, one of the rare ones who understood just how important a little kindness could be. It was the less common response to a lousy upbringing, but it happened, just as some abused animals come crawling for affection instead of trying to tear your face off. Sometimes, Matthews thought, you catch a break.
    Campbell loved John and Revé for their kindness and generosity, and he loved being with a family who cared about each other and who clearly cared for him. With John often away on business—his company was expanding, with a major resort hotel in the Bahamas under construction, among other things—Jimmy was happy to help out around the house, doing the heavy lifting when John was away, filling in when Adam needed pointers with baseball, doing anything he could do to repay the Walshes and show his appreciation.
    No way had he intended this, Campbell explained to Matthews, but over time his affection for Revé had gradually turned to something else. Obviously, she was attractive and smart and warm . . . and quite simply, he fell in love with her. And one night while John was away on an extended trip, well, something happened that shouldn’t have.
    No way he could have stopped himself, Jimmy admitted. He was way too smitten for that. But however much he was attracted to Revé and however much affection she felt toward him, they realized in the aftermath that what they had done was wrong. Understandable, maybe—everyone is human—but nonetheless it was wrong.
    Campbell could hardly live with himself for betraying John, his old friend and benefactor, he told Matthews. No way he could stay on in the Walsh house, that much was certain. And soon he had moved out.
    All this Matthews had included in his report, of course, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Unfortunately,