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when the police arrived. He was so distraught that the uniforms simply sat him in a chair,
    without handcuffs. No one had suspected that he would explode when they tried to take him out, that he would seize a gun from a policeman’s holster and turn it on them. Detective Barren remembered the funeral, thinking of the full-dress uniforms, folded flag, and rifle salute, so much like the one she had known earlier. But what a silly way to die, she thought. Then, thinking again, she wondered what was a useful way to die. She turned away swiftly when Detective Perry entered the room.
    ‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to my office.’
    She followed him down a corridor. ‘Cubicle, really. Work space. We don’t really get a real office with doors anymore. This is progress, I guess.’ She smiled and he motioned her toward a chair. ‘So?’ he asked.
    ‘That’s my question,’ she replied.
    ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Here’s something.’ He tossed a sheet of paper across his desk to her. She took it and stared at a composite picture of a curly-haired, dark-complexioned man, not bad-looking except for a pair of deeply recessed eyes that gave him a slightly cadaverous look. But not enough so to throw one off, she thought. ‘Is this …’
    ‘Best we can do,’ he interrupted. ‘It’s been distributed all over the city and all the campuses. It was on the television stations while you were at the funeral.’ ‘Response?’
    ‘The usual. Everybody thinks it looks exactly like their landlord, or the neighbor who happens to owe them money, or the guy that’s dating their daughter. But we’re checking them out slowly. Maybe we’ll get lucky.’ ‘What else?’
    ‘Well, each of the killings has some distinctive features, but when you get everything settled they are pretty much the same. The girls have all been picked up at a mixer or a bar or a student union or a campus movie. Picked up isn’t right. Followed out is more likely. No one has seen the guy actually snatch his victim …’
    ‘But
    ‘Well, no buts. We’re interviewing people. We’re doing background checks on all sorts of people — gardeners, students, hangers-on — trying to find some guy who has experience on all the campuses and is young and with-it enough to blend in.’
    ‘That could take a while.’ ‘We’ve got a dozen guys working on it.’ Detective Barren thought for an instant. She wasn’t exactly getting the runaround, but nor was she getting the entire picture. And she perceived a sense of confidence in Detective Perry that didn’t blend with a portrait of legwork, long hours, and frustration. She had the sensation of being humored. She also knew that she had to come up with the right question to open the right door. She thought for a moment. Then it struck her. ‘What about assaults?’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ Detective Perry said. ‘So what you’ve been saying is that you’ve got a little bit of this, a little bit of that, but no makeable case out of the homicides. What about an assault? If this guy has been at this for, how long? A year or more, I’d guess, then he has to have had a few near-misses. Screwed up. Been surprised nother student when he tried to snatch a victim. Something like that, huh? You tell me.’
    ‘Well,’ Perry replied, drawing the word out. ‘That’s an interesting idea …’
    “Which I’m not the only person to think of.’ “Well …’ He hesitated. “Don’t bullshit me.’ “I don’t want to.’ ‘Then answer.’
    He looked uncomfortable. He shuffled some papers. He looked around for help. ‘I wasn’t supposed to be that candid,’ he admitted. “I didn’t think so.’ ‘Can you back off? I mean …’
    “Forget it,’ Detective Barren said. ‘I want to know.’ “Okay, but I’m not gonna get too specific.’
    She nodded. ‘Twice.’
    She nodded again.
    ‘Twice the creep screwed up. Last time was the night before your niece got it. We got a partial license plate