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picked up on what was happening without even blinking. “Now that I look close,” she said, “no one would believe you’re really a woman.”
    â€œNo one looks close,” I said. “And if they do, they still just see Lulu, so what’s the difference?” She didn’t say anything, and I suddenly felt compelled to justify my methods. “In fact, this ability to compartmentalize my mind is a real asset for a detective. I can look at the case from a number of different viewpoints.”
    â€œHaven’t I seen you hanging around the mall?”
    â€œI often lunch at the Whisper Café,” Lulu said. “Now sit down and tell me what you know about Randy Casey.”
    â€œRandy wrote documentation, too,” Prudence said.
    â€œWhat? The police were here earlier. They didn’t say anything about documentation. I thought he played games for Challenger Video.”
    â€œThat’s what he was doing when he was killed,” she said. “I knew Randy. He didn’t talk much. I don’t see why anyone would want to kill him.”
    â€œHow did you know him.”
    â€œThe documentation community isn’t that big,” she said. “But the truth is I met him when he worked for Gerald and Pablo.”
    â€œHe worked for them?”
    â€œGerald fired him,” she said, “and Pablo let it happen.”
    â€œThat doesn’t look good.”
    â€œI guess not,” she said. “Randy just wasn’t serious enough for GP Ink. Getting fired was the best thing that could have happened to him. He really liked Challenger Video. They make games.”
    â€œI thought I just said that.”
    â€œWell, what you may not know,” she said, “is that Randy had just done the game playing instructions for a new product called Seventeen Worlds. The instructions hadn’t been printed yet. In fact they’d only been released on the net to a mail group.”
    â€œSo, he was a documentalist, too?”
    â€œChallenger hadn’t hired him to write the docs,” she said. “It was pure speculation. He was hoping the company would move him up to the documentation department when they saw what he could do. I guess no one out of the group ever got a chance to see his work.”
    â€œDo you have access to that group?”
    â€œYes,” she said.
    â€œSo what is it?”
    â€œIt’s secret,” she said.
    â€œI think you’re going to have to tell me about it,” I said. “I can’t do my job if you’re keeping things from me.”
    â€œI suppose you’re right,” she said. “It’s not a really big secret anyway. The group is the Secret Brotherhood of Documentalists. People call it BOD.”
    Did she give in too quickly? I filed that question away for later consideration.
    â€œSo, that’s where that word comes from,” I said. “I keep running into it.”
    â€œSecret?”
    â€œDocumentalist,” I said, “but speaking of the word ‘secret,’ shouldn’t people call the group SBOD?”
    â€œThe S is silent,” she said.
    â€œAnd invisible?”
    â€œYes,” she said.
    â€œSo how do you know about this secret group?”
    She paused for only a moment. “I’m a member,” she said.
    â€œSo, if you’re a member, shouldn’t the group be the Secret Brother and Sisterhood of Documentalists?”
    â€œThe Sisterhood is silent, too,” she said. Was she serious? I didn’t have a clue. The way she talked, the little mistakes and awkward phrasing, I couldn’t get a handle on her. What did that small smile really mean? Did it reach her eyes? Was she putting me on?
    â€œSo can you bring up a list of people in the group?” I asked. “Maybe we can spot something.”
    â€œSure,” she said. “You got a place I can plug in?”
    â€œWhy not just use mine?” I twisted the monitor