"I don't care what you believe! Who do you think you are!" The hand shot up again and clamped itself over his mouth for a second. Then he said, "I don't mean that. I'm just upset. Obviously, I care very much what you think. I'd invited Todd to come up here. I felt bad. I made him some dinner, and let me tell you, the conversation was tough going. I don't know about you, but my knowledge of the complete works of Puff Daddy is sketchy at best. I mean, I think this kid's highest ambition was to be a DJ- the kind that scratches records for a living. In any case, he was none too friendly, after I told him he couldn't stay the night. I'm sorry- a sixteen-year-old stranger? In a gay man's apartment? A high-school teacher?- I'm not crazy. I dropped him off at the Bayshore with enough money for one night, his return bus fare, and breakfast. Why are you looking like that? I'll show you his e-mail."

It took a couple of minutes for Fehrenbach to boot up his computer and call up his correspondence. "Here. Look. Very early on- this is our second private exchange. I say, Tell me about yourself. What do you do? How old are you?" He scrolled up the screen. "There's his reply."

Delorme leaned beside him and read, "I'm twenty-one and I'm hung like a bull- what more do you need to know, Jacob?"

"It never occurred to me that he'd be younger than he said. See, most people on-line lie about themselves in the other direction. I've been known to shave a few years off my age. Anyway, it was all explicitly sexual at first, but then when he got iffy about meeting, I realized he wasn't secure with his sexuality. It became more of a friendship then- I didn't want to rush anything, and I suppose I became a bit of a mentor."

Delorme said, "Excuse me, but your correspondence did not look that intellectual."

"Intellectual, no. That doesn't mean it was unintelligent. Look, things may be more liberal than they were when I was growing up, but the fact remains that coming to terms with yourself- accepting that your sexuality is going to be regarded by the majority of people as deviant- is the most difficult piece of self-analysis most people are ever called upon to make. If you're fair, you'll see that our chat becomes much less explicit after the first five or six notes."

He scrolled down a couple of notes. What he said was true: Gradually, the content changed from lingering, almost painterly, fantasies to focused discussions of sexuality in general. Fehrenbach's e-mails were as he claimed- those of a mentor addressing someone facing an enemy he had long ago engaged and overcome.

Toward the end, there was a specific exchange about the logistics of getting "Galahad" from Toronto to Algonquin Bay- should he take bus or train, and how to get the money to him.

"I'm catching the eleven forty-five tomorrow morning. Supposed to be in Algonquin Bay by four. See you soon!"

Dated December 19. After that, nothing.

"You didn't meet him at the train station?"

"No, I'd already mailed him the money for the train and a cab. By then, I was worried he was not as old as he claimed. I certainly didn't want to be seen in the company of a minor."

"You're awfully careful, Mr. Fehrenbach," Delorme observed. "Some people, they might say you were suspiciously careful."

"I have a friend in Toronto- he used to live in Toronto- who liked to have long friendly chats with his students in his office. Private chats, with the door closed. Based on that, and based on the testimony of a boy he had failed, my friend got sent to prison for four years. Four years, Officer. No, no. I'm prudent, that's all. My door stays open-wide open- and I never see students anywhere outside of school."

"According to that note," Cardinal said, "and according to what you're telling us, Todd would have been at the Bayshore on December twentieth."

"That's right. I drove him there. I watched him go in. I stayed in the car, but I watched him go in."

"Must have been hard to do. You'd had all this hot talk, you were expecting a hot weekend, and then you cut it off right at the threshold. Must have been difficult."

"It wasn't. You say he was sixteen; he looked fourteen. That's still a child in my book. I sleep with men, Officer Cardinal, not children."

"We need to know where you were the rest of that weekend."

"Well, that's easy. I was at loose ends because I had set aside the weekend, and now it was going to be empty. So I took up an earlier offer from a friend in Powassan and spent the weekend with him. On the Monday I went straight down to Toronto to spend Christmas with my parents. My friend will remember. I told him exactly what I just told you, and he had a good laugh at my expense."

"We'll need a name. And keep in mind that if you call this person to rehearse your stories we'll know it from phone records."

"I don't need to rehearse the truth. Neither will he." Fehrenbach fetched his address book and gave the details to Delorme, who wrote them all down. He kept leaning over her shoulder, making sure she got it right, as if he were checking her homework.

Cardinal remembered the respect in Kelly's voice: "How many teachers do you know who get kids arguing, arguing about Henry Hudson and Samuel de Champlain? The man is Mister Correct Procedure, Mister Memorize Your Dates and Gather Your Thoughts and Review Your Notes Because You'll Be Tested On This."

Cardinal held out a hand. "Mr. Fehrenbach, you've been very helpful."

The teacher hesitated, then took his hand.

Delorme was sullen in the car. Cardinal knew she had a temper, and he could sense her attempts to control it. As they turned onto Main, the car suddenly fishtailed on a patch of ice, and Cardinal took the opportunity to pull over.

"Look, Lise- the guy has a sterling reputation, all right? First-rate teacher, nothing against. His manner was open and honest and straightforward- a lot more honest than I would have been in his situation."

"This is a mistake we're making. Right now, Fehrenbach is sitting at his computer erasing every trace of his mail with that kid."

"We don't need it. We have it all from Todd's computer. We'll check his alibi, and we'll post some guys to keep an eye on him. And none of it will lead anywhere."

THE desk clerk at the Bayshore didn't remember Todd Curry from the photograph. And the kid had never signed the register.

"See," Delorme said. "Fehrenbach was lying."

"I didn't expect to see the kid's signature here. Fellowes at the Crisis Center already told me Todd Curry checked in there on December twentieth. He hung out somewhere, heard about the Crisis Center, and decided to save the money Fehrenbach had given him by staying there for the night. And at some point between the Crisis Center and the house on Main West, he met the killer."