The bafflement on the two men's faces suggested otherwise.

Molly McNamara said, "I chose you for a reason."

"Come on," said Bud Schwartz, "we're just burglars."

"And don't you ever forget it," Molly said.

Danny Pogue couldn't believe she was talking to them this way. He couldn't believe he was being terrorized by an old lady in a rocking chair.

"There's something else you should know," said Molly McNamara. "There are others."

Momentarily Bud Schwartz's mind had stuck on that thousand dollars she'd mentioned. He had been thinking: Screw the other nine, just grab the grand and get lost. Now she was saying something about others – what others?

"Anything happens to me," Molly said, "there's others that know who you are. Where you live. Where you hang out. Everything."

"I don't get it," muttered Danny Pogue.

"Burglars get shot sometimes," Molly McNamara said. "Nobody says boo about it, either. Nobody gets arrested or investigated or anything else. In this country, you kill a burglar and the Kiwanis gives you a plaque. That's the point I was trying to make."

Danny Pogue turned to Bud Schwartz, who was staring down at his partner's swollen foot and wondering if it was too late to make a run for it. Finally he said, "Lady, we're very sorry about your animals."

"They're not my animals," said Molly, "any more than you are."

THREE

At half past ten Joe Winder went down to The Catacombs, the underground network of service roads that ran beneath the Amazing Kingdom of Thrills. It was along these winding cart paths, discreetly out of view from visitors, that the food, merchandise, money and garbage were moved throughout the sprawling amusement park. It was also along these secret subterranean passageways that the kiddie characters traveled, popping up suddenly at strategic locations throughout the Amazing Kingdom and imploring tourists to snap their picture. No customers ("guests" was the designated term) ever were allowed to venture into The Catacombs, lest they catch a glimpse of something that might tarnish their image of the Amazing Kingdom – a dog rooting through a dumpster, for example. Or one of Uncle Ely's Elves smoking a joint.

Which is what Joe Winder saw when he got to the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm looking for Robbie Raccoon," he said to the elf, who wasn't particularly jolly or gnome like.

The elf belched blue smoke and asked which Robbie Raccoon he was looking for, since there were three.

"The one who was on duty this afternoon," Winder said. "The one who fought with the rat robbers."

The big elf pointed with the smoldering end of the joint. "Okay, there's a locker room on the west side. Just follow the orange signs." He took another drag. I'd offer you a hit, but I got this nasty chest virus. Hate to pass it along."

"Sure," said Joe Winder. "No problem."

The lockers were at the end of a damp concrete tunnel that smelled of stale laundry and ammonia. Robbie Raccoon was straddling the bench, trying to unzip his head. Winder introduced himself, and explained that he was from the Publicity Department.

"I'm writing a press release about what happened earlier today," he said. "A few quick questions is all."

"Fire away," said Robbie Raccoon. The words came out muffled, from a small opening in the neck of the costume.

Winder said, "I can barely hear you."

With a grunt Robbie Raccoon removed his head, which was as large as a beach ball. Joe Winder was startled by what he saw beneath it: long shimmering blond hair, green eyes and mascara. Robbie Raccoon was a woman.

She said, "If you're going to make a joke, get it over with."

"No, I wasn't."

"Don't think this is my life ambition or anything."

"Of course not," said Joe Winder.

The woman said her name was Carrie Lanier. "And I got my SAG card," she said, still somewhat defensive. "That's the only reason I took this stupid job. I'm going to be an actress."

Mindlessly Winder said, "You've got to start somewhere."

"Darn right."

He waited for Carrie Lanier to remove the rest of the raccoon outfit, but she didn't. He took out his notebook and asked her to describe what had happened at the Rare Animal Pavilion.

Carrie shrugged in an exaggerated way, as if she were still in character. "It was two men, we're talking white trash. One of them has a sledgehammer, and they're both walking real fast. I start to follow, don't ask me why – I just had a hunch. All of a sudden the one with the hammer smashes out the glass in one of the exhibits."

"And you tried to stop him?"

"Yeah, I jumped the guy. Climbed on his back. He turned around and clobbered me pretty solid. Thank God for this." Carrie knocked on the crown of the raccoon head, which was propped face-up on the bench. Her fist made a sharp hollow sound. "Chicken wire, plaster and Kevlar," she explained. "They say it's bulletproof."

Joe Winder wrote this down, even though Charles Chelsea would never let him use it in the press release. At the Amazing Kingdom, each publicity announcement was carefully purged of all intriguing details. Winder was having a tough time kicking the habit of taking good notes.

Carrie Lanier said, "He knocked me down pretty hard, but that's about it. There was a tour group from Taiwan, Korea, someplace like that. They helped me off the ground, but by then the two dirtbags were long gone. I could've done without the ambulance ride, but Risk Management said I had to."

"Can I say you suffered a slight head injury?" Joe Winder asked, pen poised.

"No," said Carrie Lanier. "As soon as the X-rays came out negative, they hauled me back to work. I'm fine."

That wouldn't go over well with Charles Chelsea; the vole story was infinitely more dramatic if a park employee had been wounded in the rescue attempt.

"Not even a headache?" Winder persisted.

"Yeah, I've got a headache," Carrie said. "I've always got a headache. Take a whiff of this place." She stood up and yanked on the fluffy striped raccoon tail, which was attached to the rump of the costume by a Velcro patch. The tail made a ripping sound when Carrie took it off. She tossed it in her locker and said, "Why would anyone steal rats?"

"Voles," said Joe Winder.

"The guys who did it, boy, what a pair. Scum of the earth."

Again Winder didn't bother to write this down.

"It's crazy," said Carrie Lanier. She reached beneath her left armpit and found, deep in the fur, another zipper. Carefully she unzipped the costume lengthwise down to her ankle. She did the same on the other side. As she stepped out of the animal outfit, Winder saw that she was wearing only a bra and panties. He tried not to stare.

Carrie hung the costume on a pair of hooks in the locker. She said, "This damn thing weighs a ton, I wish you'd write that down. It's about a hundred twenty degrees inside, too. OSHA made them put in air conditioners, but they're always broken."

Winder stepped closer to examine the raccoon costume, not Carrie Lanier in her bra (which was the type that unhooked in the front; pink with lacy cups).

Winder held up the animal suit and said, "Where's the AC?"

"In the back. Here, look." Carrie showed him. "The batteries last about two hours max, then forget about it. We tried to call the feds and complain – what a joke. They haven't been out here since the day Petey Possum died."

"Do I want to hear this story?"

"Heart attack," Carrie Lanier went on. "This was Sessums. Billy Sessums. The very first Petey Possum. He'd been twenty-two years with Disneyland – Goofy, Pluto, you name it. Billy was a pro. He taught me plenty."

"So what happened?"

"One of those days. Ninety-two in the shade, one twelve inside the possum suit. The AC went out, and so did Billy." Carrie Lanier paused reflectively. "He was an older fella but still..."