"Rose Marie Roux Yes, this is" She listened for a long minute, then said, "I'm not aware of any of this. Chief Davenport is leading that aspect of the investigation, and we haven't met yet this morning… No, I can't tell you anything. If he did that, as part of the investigation, I assume he had good reason. I appreciate that, Mr. Rodriguez, but there's really no more that I can tell you. I can have Chief Davenport call you when he comes in Yes, I'm sure he would. Yes, I'm sure he would"

After another minute of back-and-forth, she politely said goodbye, hung up, and said to Lucas, "Not a happy man. Some real estate deal was canceledYoudid have good reason?"

"Sure. We're trying to panic him. We've got him tapped." He stopped, scratched his head, said, "How come a cop called me and told me about his appointment with a real estate dealer, but we didn't get it on the wiretaps? He had to have called the guy."

Lane said, "He's a dope dealer, dummy. He's got a blind phone."

Lucas stood up and said, "Shit! How'd we miss that? All of his good calls have been going out somewhere else."

Rose Marie asked, "But how would you find a blind phone if"

Lucas shook a finger at her. "We need to talk to the phone company, and get incoming phone numbers yesterday afternoon. Wait a minutewho's watching the lines?"

"Somebody from Narcotics, I guess," Rose Marie said.

"Call down and get a number."

Two minutes later, Lucas was talking with the Narcotics cop who was monitoring Rodriguez's lines. "Did he just take a call from a real estate dealer?"

"Nope. He's gotten a couple of calls from one of his apartment managers. They had an electric panel fire last night. He's been making calls to some of his other managers, and a maintenance company. He just talked to the chief, I assume you know that."

"What line was that?"

The cop gave Lucas a number. "But no real estate dealer?"

"Nope."

Lucas rang off, got Rose Marie to dig a St. Paul phone book out of her desk, looked up Coffey Realty, dialed, and asked for Smalley. Smalley came up, and Lucas asked, "We just got a call from Mr. Rodriguez. He sounded a little upset. I assume you called him?"

"Yeah, just a little while ago. He was not a happy camper."

"Can you give me the number you called?"

"Well, sure. I guess," Coffey said.

"I don't have it here. I want to call him back," Lucas said.

"Just a sec, I've got it on a piece of paper. Where Here it is."

Lucas copied the number and said, "Thanks. I would stay away from Mr. Rodriguez for a while. Until he cools off, anyway."

"I plan to stay away from him forever," Smalley said.

Lucas hung up, and Rose Marie said, "Different number?"

"Yeah." He punched in the number for the monitoring cop, got him, and said, "We think Rodriguez is using a blind phone that we're not monitoring. I want you to call him, make like you dialed a wrong number see if it's him. If the voice is right."

The cop said, "Gimme the number."

"He might have caller ID," Lucas said.

"He won't get it from this phone."

"Get back to me," Lucas said.

"Goddamnit, we should have known this," Rose Marie said when Lucas had hung up. "A blind phones pretty basic for a dealer."

"Water under the rug," Lucas said. He looked at Lane. "You get over to the bank guy. If it's like you think, call me. We'll go bust Spooner's balls."

"All right. I should be back to you before noon," Lane said.

"Are you going to call Rodriguez?" Rose Marie asked.

"I'm gonna get Sloan to go over and see him," Lucas said. "I want to see how he handles himself."

Rose Maries phone burped. She picked it up, listened, pushed a button, said, "This is Rose Marie" then looked at Lucas. "That's Rodriguez's number. It's his voice on the other end."

"Excellent," Lucas said. "Now maybe we make some progress. But we've got to get him talking."

Sloan was on his cell phone. Lucas got him, told him to bring a car around to the hospital. "We're gonna go talk to Rodriguez."

Marcy was sitting up, still paper-pale, five years older than she'd been the week before, the corners of her eyes creased with pain lines. But her eyes were clear, and Black, perched on a chair next to her bed, said, "They're gonna put her in a regular room."

"That's progress," Lucas said. He bent over the bed and kissed her on the forehead. "Man, I'm glad to see you up. I had all these premonitions."

She looked at him for a moment, then asked, "What've you been up to?"

"What?" He shrugged.

"You've got that innocent look, and that really close shave you get when you're really satisfied with yourself. What have you been doing?"

Lucas grinned. "I don't have the guy who shot you, but I think we've got the guy who did Alie'e. Sloan and I are gonna go bust his chops."

"Yeah?" She still looked suspicious. "Who is it?"

As he filled her in on Rodriguez, he caught her attention wavering once or twice. She really wasn't back yet, he realized. Almost, not quite. When he finished with Rodriguez, he asked, "What are they telling you about recovery time? Think you could be back by Wednesday?"

"Maybe not," she said. "They said, if everything goes well, I'm gonna have to do some rehab Maybe May?"

"May? Jesus You were hit hard."

"They might have to go back in," Black said. "There're a couple pieces of bone floating around inside that oughta come out. But that's gonna be a while yet."

"You hurt?" Lucas asked her.

She nodded. "Yeah. Started this morning. I don't think it's gonna stop for a while."

"Drugs," Lucas said.

Sloan showed up and chatted for a while, then he and Lucas left, headed for St. Paul and Rodriguez. Outside the door, on the way to the car, Lucas said, "Before, I was scared about her. Now I'm pissed. She's hurting, and there's not a goddamn thing we can do about it."

"Get the guy who did it," Sloan suggested.

"The guy who did it thinks he's the Messiah," Lucas said.

"There's a difference betweenthinks he is andis," Sloan said. "To me, he's just another fat asshole on his way to a cell at Stillwater."

On the way to St. Paul, Lucas said, "Let's stop and see if Spooner is at his office. Bust his balls a little bit."

"Want me to be the nice guy?" Sloan asked.

"We don't need one. We just need to scare this guy."

But Spooner wasn't in. Reed, the bank president, came out to see them and said, "I suspended him. With pay. I think he's innocent, but we don't want a question. I pray to God that he and Alicia understand that."

"Who's Alicia?"

"His wife," Reed said.

"We really need to see him. You think he'd be at home?"

"He was earlier today."

"Do you have his address?" Lucas asked.

Reed frowned, looked at the secretary, and then said, "Give him Billys address." Then, with just a hint of defiancй: "And call Billy and tell him that these gentlemen are on their way."

Spooner lived a block from Highland Park, an affluent residential area ten minutes from the bank. The house was an upright, two-story, white-clapboard place set well back from the street, with oak trees in the front yard. Sloan pulled into the driveway and they got out; as they did, Spooner came to stand in the picture window, and for a second Lucas had the strange feeling that Spooner was somebody elsebut who, he didn't know. When Spooner saw them, he headed to the door. A dishwater blonde replaced him in the window. She was wearing a pink blouse and a gold watch.

Spooner met them on the front steps, pulling on a coat as he stepped outside. He shut the door behind him.

"I've talked to my attorney, and he said that I shouldn't talk to you unless he's present," he said.

"Well shoot," Lucas said. To Sloan: "A wasted trip."

Sloan said to Spooner, "What does your attorney think about us talking to youyou not talking back?"