That's one thing about Art. You'll let him go, even if you have a bone you can pick with him. Just so long as he goes.

George and I continued in pursuit of Cletus Borglan, killer. Well, for about another five minutes, until Lamar got to my office.

"Boss, have we got something for you!"

"Fine, fine." He sat painfully in a chair. The gunshot trauma to his lower leg was bothering him again. He held up his hand, seeing that I was about to launch into something. "Just let me tell you this before I forget, and then you can talk to me all day…"

"Sure. Sure, no problem." I was feeling generous, having just solved the case.

"You remember my wife's sister, Arlene?" He waited for my nod. "Well, she lives in this little town in Florida, that is the same town where Cletus and Inez Borglan go in the winter." He pulled a small piece of paper from his breast pocket, and held it at nearly arm's length. "Same place where the Bensons, the Hazletts, the Rhombergs, and the Hefels have retired to…"

I knew all four couples. Two teaching families, one insurance man, and a retired farmer. Come on, Lamar, I thought. I'm gonna bust if I don't tell my news.

"Wife says they want to change the name of the little town to 'New Iowa' because of all the Iowans there." He smiled at the thought. "Anyway," he said, folding the paper and placing it back in his breast pocket, buttoning the pocket, and patting it down, "Arlene says that she was talking to Cletus and Inez down there, the night before Cletus left to come back up here, and they was pretty excited about something."

Uh-oh. "Down there the day before the killings?"

"Yeah. They were playing bridge, or something, over at Cletus and Inez's cabin. He got a phone call about eleven that night, that really shook him."

"In Florida?"

"Yeah, in Florida. You got somethin' in your ears?"

"Oh, no, I guess not. We were thinking that he might have come back before we thought he did. That's all." Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

"Oh," he said, absently. "Doesn't look like it."

"Sure doesn't," said George.

"Anyway," continued Lamar, "what Arlene says is that he got this phone call, and he just sort of went white. Real worried. Took the phone to the porch, but she heard him say, 'How could they find out?' maybe two-three times. She thinks," he said, confidentially, "that Cletus is up to some illegal financial stuff." He grinned. "Anyway, old Cletus kept lookin' at Inez, like there was something she should know. Finally, they went into the kitchen together to get the coffee and some crumbly stuff… what do they call that stuff?"

"I don't know…" I said. "Crackers?"

"No, that ain't it…"

"Oh, yeah, that crumbly cake stuff… yeah, I know…"

"Will you two," interjected George, "stop it!"

Lamar chuckled. "Anyway, Arlene heard him trying to whisper to Inez in the kitchen, and then heard her say, 'Oh, my God!' and then when they came out, it looked like she's seen a ghost."

I could just imagine Cletus whispering.

"Must have been pretty bad business news," I said. "The market crash, and we didn't hear?"

"Well, you know, that's the funny part," said Lamar. "I mean, you know Cletus. He ain't quiet about nothin' that bothers him. Hell, he ain't quiet about nothin' at all. But Arlene says that they never mentioned it the rest of the evening, and he left the next day. Arlene says that she talks to Inez the next day, and Inez ain't saying nothing about it."

"Hmm." I tried to be noncommittal.

"'Hmm' is right," said Lamar. "I was thinking that it's too bad that there ain't some way to find out who called him."

"You got that right," I said. I was disappointed that Cletus was in Florida at the crucial time. Well, disappointed was a bit mild, frankly. The excitement was only a memory. Shit.

"'Cause," said Lamar, "I got kinda curious, and I called Jack Reed."

Jack Reed was president of one of the local banks. Curious, indeed.

"I said, 'Jack, I got this attorney bugging me 'bout having to repossess some stuff from Cletus Borglan, due to some business failure…'" He smiled. "Jack says, 'No way.' Tells me that Cletus is in no way in any financial trouble. So I says, 'Anything happen that might have hit him on the stock market, or the futures market?' And Jack said 'No,' that everything was fine." He turned to George. "Jack's Cletus's banker."

"Oh."

That was one of the main differences between the new model FBI agent and the old model sheriff. The agent would spend eighteen hours getting information necessary to get an application together to ask the court for permission to dig into somebody's financial records. The sheriff would just go to the banker and ask.

"So, I figure that, since there ain't no financial information of a bad nature, there ain't no business problems up here that anybody'd get too excited about. So, I think, if it ain't financial, what is it?"

"Yeah."

"It's almost got to be a death in the family, like. But nobody in the family died."

"Yeah." I knew where he was going. I loved it.

"But, I got to thinkin' that maybe somebody 'in the family' was involved in a death. Or two…" Lamar grinned. "I think our man Cletus was told about the dead brothers a long time before we tried to fill him in."

"I think you're right," I said. Yea, boss.

"So I went one step further, and I got a tape here of the telephone conversation Sally had with Inez Borglan on the day the bodies was discovered. When she called to see if Cletus could come up, and he was already on his way?"

All calls made from dispatch are taped. Without exception.

He opened his other shirt pocket with a Velcro rip, and pulled out his minirecorder. He carefully turned the volume up, and placed it on my desk. George moved in a bit closer.

"I got it right at the part we want," he said. "You can hear the rest later." With that, he pressed "play."

There was some hiss in the tape, and voices coming over Sally's radio console were an irritation, but the conversation itself was clear enough.

SALLY: INEZ, THIS IS THE NATION COUNTY SHERIFF 'S DEPARTMENT. COULD I SPEAK WITH CLETUS, PLEASE?

INEZ: OH… OH… GOD…

SALLY: IT'S ALL RIGHT, INEZ. REALLY. COULD I JUST SPEAK TO CLETUS?

INEZ: HE'S ON HIS WAY. HE LEFT THIS MORNING, AND HE'S ON HIS WAY.

SALLY: HE'S COMING HERE? BACK TO NATION COUNTRY?

INEZ: I JUST KNEW IT.

SALLY: INEZ, HOW CAN I CONTACT CLETUS? WHERE'S HE FLYING IN TO? CEDAR RAPIDS?

INEZ: HE'LL GO RIGHT TO THE FARM. YOU KNOW.

SALLY: HE'S GOING TO THE FARM?

INEZ: HARVEY WILL GET HIM TO THE FARM.

SALLY: HARVEY?

INEZ: OUR HIRED MAN. HARVEY WILL GET CLETE IN CEDAR RAPIDS. HE'S GOING RIGHT TO THE FARM. I'M SORRY. SO SORRY.

SALLY: THAT'S ALL RIGHT, INEZ. WE CAN CONTACT HIM. WHAT TIME DOES CLETUS GET TO CEDAR RAPIDS?

INEZ: HE LEFT ABOUT TWO HOURS AGO. I'M SO SORRY.

SALLY: DO YOU HAVE A FLIGHT NUMBER?

Lamar stopped the tape. "That don't sound like much," he said. "But if you think about it, why the hell is she so sorry? What is it that she knew was going to happen?" He looked at us. "She sound really stressed to you?"

"Sure does," I said. And she had.

"Very," said George.

"Now nothin' against females, or anything," prefaced Lamar, "but they do worry a lot, and it ain't that unlikely for a female to say she knew something was gonna happen beforehand, no matter what it is. Right?"

Lamar's idea of "politically correct" was to use old high school biology terms, like male and female.

"I thought that was just my mother," said George.

"When a male subject says he's 'so sorry,' he means he's sorry for himself, like when he gets caught. But," said Lamar, "when a female subject says she's 'so sorry,' she ain't sorry for herself, she's sorry for you. Or about something that happened to you."