"I can't tell you right now. Please don't ask."

I poured coffee and sat at the table with them.

"What did you want to see me about?"

"Preacher told me what you were talking about yesterday," Tiny said. "Then I talked to Gloves, and we decided that we should tell you everything we know."

"Why not go to the police?"

"There are things we'd rather not talk to them about," said Gloves, "things that could get some of the players in trouble. That's their business, but it might help find the murderer."

"Go ahead."

"You've treated us fairly as long as I've been with the team. So you can decide what we should do."

"Some of it has to come out eventually, Gloves."

"But you'll keep quiet about it now?"

"I can't write anything until the murderer has been caught unless the police want to release it."

"All right. What do you think is going on here?"

"There are two possibilities. One has to do with the blackmail," I said, looking at Joe Kelsey, "which I know is going on. The other has to do with drugs, which is what I can't really talk about. But there is a drug connection with Sanchez, too. One or the other has to be connected with the murders. Or both."

"Preacher, why don't you tell Kate what you know," Tiny said in a tone of voice that was more an order than a request. Kelsey squirmed, but began.

"There was something I did when I was in the minor leagues that I'm ashamed of. If it came out, my career would be over. I've never told anybody about it."

"We don't want to know," Tiny said.

"Well, last spring, I found an envelope in my locker. It had something in it from that time. Something that got into the papers down in Tennessee. There was a note with it, telling me to come to the batting tunnel early the next morning."

He paused. Tiny and Gloves nodded encouragement at him.

"Sultan was there, working in one of the cages. He didn't say anything at first. After I'd been waiting for about five minutes he asked me to help him load the pitching machine. While we were doing it, he said, 'Sure is interesting what you can find in old newspapers.'

"Then he told me that it would cost me two thousand dollars a month to keep quiet."

"So you paid him?"

He shrugged.

"Some guys spend that much on tips. I had the money. It was better than losing my career. But the money wasn't the problem. I hated knowing that he knew. Every month when the payment was due he would look at me a lot when he was talking to people and laugh, just to show me how easy it would be."

"The bastard. Do you know of anyone else?"

"It's not the kind of thing that comes up in conversation, Kate," Gloves said, a bit exasperated.

"I know he was blackmailing Thorson. Sandi told me. And from what you said yesterday, Gloves, maybe David Sloane, too. I tried to ask him about it, but he wasn't saying anything."

"Sloane? What's Sultan have on him? Drinking coffee?" Tiny was incredulous.

"Maybe he was caught exposing himself," I said.

"But you don't seriously think that Sloane did it?" Gloves said, when we'd stopped laughing.

"He has a powerful temper," said Tiny. "But what about Thorson? Why was he killed?"

"The police haven't found the blackmail material yet. It wasn't in Sultan's condo or his safety deposit box, so they think whoever killed him took it. What if Thorson killed Sultan, then tried to blackmail Sloane with the evidence he found?"

"Did Thorson say anything to you, Joe?"

"No."

"Kate, you talked about drugs. What did you mean by that?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Come on, Kate. We're trusting you." I decided to follow my instincts.

"Tiny, remember on Saturday, when Sultan gave T.C. his glove?"

"Yeah. He was trying to show me up."

"Whatever. On Monday night, T.C. gave me the glove to fix because one of the laces was coming loose. I found baggies full of cocaine inside the padding. Yesterday was the second time someone broke in here trying to find it."

"Who knew he had it?"

"You were there when Sultan gave it to him, Tiny. I don't know who else saw. But he had it at the ballpark Sunday. Any number of people could have seen it. He was getting autographs."

"I signed that glove on Sunday," Tiny said. "I told him he'd never be able to catch anything with it."

"I did, too," Kelsey said. "I didn't really notice anything about it."

"Me, too," said Gloves.

"Exactly. So did Stinger, Alex, and Mark Griffin. And heaven knows who else noticed it."

"So where does Thorson fit into that one? He was killed Sunday night."

"Damned if I know."

We'd put four brains together and come up with zilch. "Let's forget motive for now," I said. "What about opportunity? Who has keys to the stadium?"

"You mean who could have been there Sunday night? Any of us could have hung around," Gloves said. "And some of us have keys. I got one from Moose one time when I had to go in on an off-day. I never gave it back. It could have been me."

"Or me," Tiny said. "No one has ever worried about keys. Quite a few of the guys have them."

"That doesn't really matter, come to think of it," I said. "The way that clubhouse lock was taped, anyone who bought a ticket to Sunday's game could have hidden in the stadium and got into the clubhouse later."

I was making more coffee when the knock came on the door. I'll rephrase that. I was making more coffee when the irate pounding came on the door. I wasn't surprised when I opened it.

"Staying home this morning to clean up, are you? And you've invited a few friends in to help you, I suppose. They look like they're really handy with a broom."

Staff Sergeant Munro stormed into the kitchen.

"Look. I am the policeman here. I am the one investigating these murders. I don't tell you how to write stories, Kate. I don't tell you guys how to play baseball. Because I'm an amateur at your jobs. Correct?"

"We were just . . ."

"Just what? You have coffee together often, do you? This is a regular occurrence, is it? Do me a favour. Don't treat me like an idiot."

The players had got up from the table as soon as Andy arrived. Now they were trying to sidle inconspicuously out of the door. It would have been funny any other day.

"We'll see you at the ballpark later, Kate," Tiny said.

"Thanks for the coffee," said Gloves.

"Yeah, guys, thanks for dropping in." I wished I could sneak out with them.

When they left, I turned on Andy angrily. The best defence is offence.

"What do you mean by barging in here?"

"What do you mean by lying to me?" He was shouting, too.

"I never lied to you."

"You said you were going to stop playing detective."

"I never did. And besides, I'm not playing detective. If they want to come and talk to me, they can. I didn't ask them to come."

"Don't give me that crap."

"Crap?! You want to talk crap?"

We were practically nose to nose, screaming, when the phone rang. I picked it up and barked a hello.

"Kate, it's Moose. Are you all right?"

"I'm just fine," I shouted.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Sorry." I turned my back on Andy and lowered my voice. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just calling to tell you about the memorial service. If it's a bad time you can call me back."

"No, it's fine. When's the service?"

"Tomorrow, at three."

"Where?"

"At the ballpark."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Thorson was Protestant, Sanchez was Catholic. We couldn't hold it in a church. And we needed lots of room."

"Moose, that is really tacky."

"How can you say that? We're going to do a very tasteful service."

"All right, Moose, I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it. But, Moose?"

"Yes?"

"What if it's still raining?"

"It's not supposed to."

"Whatever you say. Who's conducting the service?"

"The mayor, Father Scanlon, a Spanish-speaking priest from Our Lady of Perpetual Help, and the Anglican archbishop. Some of the players will speak, too. We haven't got a rabbi lined up yet."

"Moose, you're too much. See you later. You going to get the game in tonight?"

"We're going to try. Get ready for a long night."

"Is there likely to be batting practice?"

"I doubt it."

"Okay, see you later. Thanks for calling."

I hung up the phone and went to the stove.

"Coffee?"

"Please."

I brought the mug to him, avoiding his eyes.

"Sugar's on the table."

"Thanks."