“That’s in an hour!” DeSoto roared. “Tell me what you want and I’ll get the kitchen cranking. We’ll have you fed and out of here with time to spare, won’t we, Miles?”

“Take him up on it,” Miles said. “The food’s good.”

Stevie ordered a hamburger and French fries and, coaxed by DeSoto, a vanilla milk shake. Susan Carol asked for lemonade and a Cobb salad-which made DeSoto wince noticeably.

“Come on, girl, we need to put some meat on your bones,” DeSoto said. “Best steaks in town. It’s on me. Give it a shot.”

She thanked him but said no, and he raced off to put in the order.

“We need to get cracking here,” Susan Carol said to Miles.

“If we’re out of here at four-fifteen, even four-twenty, you’ll make the train,” Miles said. “Station’s five minutes away.”

DeSoto came back in and sat again. “So, much as I wish it were true, you didn’t come to see me because you’ve heard how good our food is. What can I do for you?”

They had decided before coming inside that the best way to get a straight answer about Hatley and Doyle was to just ask about what he remembered about the two of them from twelve years ago without going through the whole story again.

“Mr. DeSoto-” Susan Carol began.

“Mickey, please,” he interrupted.

“Okay, Mickey. I’m sure you know what a great story Norbert Doyle has become during this World Series. We’re wondering what you remember about him from his days in Lynchburg.”

The big smile vanished from Mickey DeSoto’s face. “Is this to be quoted?” he asked.

“No, it’s not,” she said. “We’re just trying to confirm some things…”

“Like the fact that he drank?” DeSoto said. “Look, the guy straightened his life out. He went to rehab. He’s raised those kids. Why revisit all this now?”

“We understand what you’re saying,” Stevie said. “But there are conflicting stories.”

“About what?” DeSoto said.

Stevie looked at Susan Carol. She squared her shoulders. “How about if we ask it this way: what, if anything, can you tell us about Norbert’s relationship with Officer Jim Hatley?”

The smile returned. “His relationship with Jim? Hell, he probably wouldn’t be alive if not for Jim Hatley. The number of nights Jim drove him home from here when he was drunk are almost countless. I remember one night the two of us couldn’t even stand him up. I had to throw the poor guy over my shoulder to get him to the car. How Jim got him inside his house, I have no idea.”

“So Jim didn’t drink with him then?” Stevie asked.

DeSoto laughed again just as the door opened and Amber came in carrying a tray full of food and drinks. She cleared space on a table next to DeSoto’s desk and set up the food. She put down a plate with a healthy-looking steak on it for Miles.

“Amber, I didn’t ask for anything,” Miles said.

“I know,” she said, smiling at him. “But I know what you like.”

She walked out, leaving Miles looking a little bit red-faced. Stevie was curious but knew this wasn’t the time to ask Miles any personal questions.

“You were saying about Jim Hatley,” Susan Carol said, taking a sip from her lemonade.

“Jim never drank in here after work-never,” DeSoto said. “He came for the food and the company. That summer he just more or less adopted Norbert because the kid needed help. He was the one who got him to go to rehab after the accident.”

“What do you know about Joe Molloy’s relationship with Analise Doyle?” Susan Carol asked, switching subjects on a dime.

DeSoto shrugged. “Not much. I know that he had dated her before she ended up with Norbert, but to be honest, I don’t remember if I found that out before she died or-”

He stopped in midsentence and smacked himself in the forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot about that,” he said, almost to himself.

“Forgot about what?” Susan Carol said.

“The night of the accident, Joe Molloy was in here.”

“Afterward?” Susan Carol said.

“No. Before. He came in for dinner and sat at the bar. I remember asking him if he had the night off, because he was having a glass of wine with his dinner. I was surprised when he said he had the graveyard shift, because it wasn’t like Joe to drink at all, much less drink before he went on duty.”

“Did he drink a lot that night?” Stevie asked.

“I don’t know,” DeSoto said. “I wasn’t working the bar, I just stopped to talk for a minute. He might have only had the one glass of wine. Even that surprised me. Like I said, he was never a drinker-still isn’t, in all the years I’ve known him.”

This was an interesting twist to the story-or maybe not. Maybe it was another meaningless scrap of information. But what was truly important was that DeSoto had confirmed Jim Hatley’s version of his relationship with Doyle. They finished their food and thanked him for his time.

“What kind of story do you plan to write?” he asked as they stood to leave.

“Honestly? We have no idea,” Susan Carol said. “There’s one more person to talk to, and if he won’t tie up the loose ends, then they can’t be tied.”

“Joe Molloy?” DeSoto said.

Susan Carol shook her head. “Norbert Doyle,” she said. She reached across the desk to shake his hand. “Thanks very much for the meal. And the conversation.” She turned to Stevie. “We need to go catch that train.”

Miles Hoy tried hard to turn down the hundred-dollar bill Kelleher had given Stevie that morning to pass on to him.

“I’m not allowed back in Washington if I’m still carrying this money,” Stevie said. “You’ve more than earned it.”

“I’ll take it on one condition,” Miles said. “You invite me to Philly for a game next year and Susan Carol comes up for the game too.”

“Done,” they both said. Hugs were exchanged and they made the train with about a minute to spare.

As soon as they were settled, Stevie called Kelleher, who was headed to the ballpark. “What’s the weather like back there?” Stevie asked.

“Lousy,” he said. “It’s drizzling right now and cold. They say the rain will clear off but the temperature will probably be in the forties for the game.”

Stevie groaned at the thought. He walked Kelleher step by step through their afternoon. When he was finished, Kelleher sighed.

“Let’s assume that Hatley’s version is the truth,” he said. “That would mean Molloy has now lied twice. Is there more that we don’t know? That he’s not telling us?”

Stevie thought. “Well, if he knows that going straight to the restaurant rather than just calling Hatley might have been the difference…”

“Then he’s got a lot to feel guilty about,” Kelleher said. “It’s bad police work, and really bad human work. It probably would hurt his career. And it could hurt his reputation even more, especially with Norbert Doyle being a national hero right now.”

“Why wouldn’t he just tell us about it off the record?” Stevie said.

“With his wife maybe listening around a corner?” Kelleher said. “I doubt he’s ever told her or anyone else the truth, if that’s what the truth is. Plus, you guys told him he couldn’t go off the record today, right?”

“True,” Stevie said. “So, what do we do now?”

“We wait until tomorrow and find a way to talk to Norbert Doyle. Whether he’ll tell the truth is a completely different question.”

Stevie hung up and filled Susan Carol in on what Kelleher had said. Which reminded him of something.

“The thing you knew that you didn’t want to tell me last night,” he said. “It was rehab, right?”

She nodded. “Yes. Now that three different people told you about it today, I’m off the hook. I never broke my word to David, and you’ve got the story anyway.”

“I’m not so sure what we’ve got,” he said.

“We’re close,” she said. “I think Bobby’s right. There is a missing piece to the puzzle. Molloy is still lying for some reason, and Doyle or Felkoff or both didn’t want us talking to Hatley because he might tell us the truth.”