"The charge is murder," Wu said. "But there are questions."

This was the first time Hardy had heard Wu say something like that, and he shot a glance at her.

Wu nodded back.

Hardy and Wu were walking across the parking lot. Out in front of them, the sun still hadn't cleared the hills across the bay, and wisps of fog still hung in the air, but the chill had already gone out of it. Overhead the sky was a clear blue and there was no wind.

"What did you mean in there? There are questions- which hasn't exactly been your mantra since you got on this case. I was wondering if something had happened."

"Nothing specific. I just decided that I needed to adjust my attitude if I wanted to keep on defending him. His position hasn't budged- he's innocent." She shrugged. "So I guess I decided to try on believing him, see what it felt like. At least it's got me thinking that it might be possible after all. Otherwise, why would he persist in all these insane contradictions? Until I read his short story, I thought he just might not be too bright, but we know it isn't that."

"No. We know it isn't that."

"Right. So now I'm kind of leaning the opposite way, thinking he's just too smart to have made up so much dumb stuff. He wouldn't have shot them and left the gun on the table, for example. Period. He just wouldn't have done it. Anyway, once I decided maybe he wasn't lying about everything, it gave me some hope."

"That's funny." Hardy told her that some similar thoughts had been surfacing for him since he'd started to consider the fact that the upstairs neighbor, the state's prime witness, hadn't said he'd heard any gunshots. But as soon as he'd said it aloud to Wu, he immediately backpedaled.

"It's nowhere near certain," he said. "I've got to talk to him again. Salarco. About the gun. What it looked like. If it had any kind of silencer on it, he would have had to notice. But if not, then I've got to find out if the cops found any kind of muffling agent at Mooney's. Maybe the shooter shot through a pillow or something."

They'd both stopped walking. Wu faced him. "There's no indication of that from the crime scene pictures. I didn't see anything in discovery."

"I know. I double-checked them myself. And Salarco probably would have mentioned something like a silencer if he'd seen one. It's a big old protruding tube stuck on the end of the barrel, you know. It's not something you'd miss."

"So what are you saying? If all of this gets borne out?"

"Well, the simplest interpretation, which is always the best, is that if Andrew's gun didn't have a silencer on it, and he didn't use anything to kill the sound, then that gun- the purported murder weapon- never got fired that night." Hardy's eyes were bright with the possibility. "It's not quite exactly the other dude that I must say there's no sign of, but Andrew's gun is a big part of the picture. If I can get Johnson to listen, or get Salarco to testify that he got a good gander at the gun and it looked normal…"

"… then… wait a minute."

"What?"

"Well, being devil's advocate, Andrew could have used a silencer, killed Mooney and Laura, then taken the silencer off and ditched it before he came back to call nine one one."

"Then got rid of the gun? A second trip? I don't see that happening. I can't see Andrew doing that."

"I don't either. But Jason Brandt will see it, and the argument's then refuted and we're back where we started."

"No. Not exactly," Hardy said, "at least I'm not."

"What would be the difference?" Wu asked.

"You mean if everything is just as I described it to you now? Salarco didn't just miss the two shots? No muffling agent in the house, no silencer on the gun?"

"Yeah. What then?"

Hardy's eyes were out of focus while the idea worked itself into something like resolution in his mind. The matter settled, he came back to her. "Then I'm pretty sure I don't have to pretend to myself anymore. If Salarco didn't hear the gun, then Andrew didn't shoot it. And you know what that means? What I've got to believe?"

"What's that?"

"He's innocent. Somebody else killed them."

PART THREE

23

Hardy's medical business with Frannie- taking her to the doctor, getting her back home, into bed and fed- trumped any interaction he might have had with Juan Salarco, and took up a good portion of his morning. Rebecca, the dear, had told her mother that since Dad had taken the regular car, she had no choice but to drive herself and Vincent to school in the convertible. So after he'd changed into his business suit, then called to speak with the principal at Sutro, he swung down to their high school, found the S2000 in the lot and switched cars on her, leaving a note about the broken window on the 4Runner so she wouldn't think it had happened at school.

He drove by Salarco's, saw that the truck was nowhere to be seen, and realized he'd have to come back after the workday. As far as he knew, Juan's wife Anna spoke only Spanish. Beyond that, he doubted if she would know the precise residence where her husband was working at any given moment. Anxious though he was for Salarco's information, he had to pass for now. He had other questions, and precious few answers.

It wasn't far to Sutro and he made it there by the end of the school's lunch hour. The outer administration office was empty, but Hardy knew where he was going and went right to it. The principal was in his office, behind his desk doing some paperwork, and stood when Hardy poked his head in. "Mr. Wagner? Sorry to barge in but time is short and there isn't anybody out front. Dismas Hardy. Andrew Bartlett's attorney?"

Wagner, portly and slightly foppish with a bow tie and suspenders, reached a hand out over his desk. "Certainly. How's he doing?" In his earlier call, Hardy had told him about the suicide attempt.

"He's alive," Hardy said. "Which is good enough for now."

Wagner swiveled in his chair, looked out the window behind him at the play yard, still packed with students. "This has been a terrible tragedy for the school," he said. "To think that he was coming here every day for weeks after…" He sighed. "Our counselors are a little overwhelmed, you know. Students realizing they'd been walking around, or even taking classes, with a murderer."

"An alleged murderer," Hardy said.

"Alleged or otherwise." Wagner spun back around, gave him the man-to-man. "Mr. Hardy, please. Do you really think it's possible Andrew is not guilty?"

"Yes. Possible. Although proving I'm right may be a different story."

"I must say it's refreshing to hear someone say they don't think he's guilty. Pretty much all I heard after the arrest was that it was open-and-shut."

"I'd heard the same thing myself. I keep hearing it, in fact."

Wagner moved some papers around on his desk. "You know, it would be so wonderful for the school if that weren't the case. It's bad enough that the two victims were members of the community. But if somehow Andrew were found innocent, it might go a long way toward starting the healing."

"Well, you know, sir, that's the reason I came by here today. I've got a hearing for Andrew scheduled to begin tomorrow and I wondered if I might ask you a favor. I understand his sister goes here, too."

"That's right."

"Well, I know it's unusual, but I've got some questions for her, and for the two other people that were in the play with Andrew, that really might be of some use. I know I could wait and see all of them at home with their parents"- and maybe their lawyers, he thought-"tonight, but I'm in a time crunch of major proportions. Would it be possible to borrow a room here in the office and pull those three people out of class for a few minutes?" When he saw that Wagner had a problem with the idea, he added, "Mr. North assured me that I would have your complete cooperation in the defense of his son."