'I want the suspect apprehended.'

'Well, I can certainly apprehend a suspect, sir. Immediately, if you want. Apprehending the actual killer will require more time.'

Chief Gallagher shot up from the table. Spencer stood unmoving in front of him. Gallagher said nothing, Spencer did not look away. After a few seconds, Spencer bowed his head, gave a perfunctory smile and said, 'If you'll excuse me, chief, I have to go and interview a witness.'

'They'll be here soon, O'Malley. And then you won't have to interview anyone.'

Spencer took that as a threat.

'Should I talk to Franklin Absalom or not?' he said, turning around. 'Or are you taking me off the case, chief?'

'I'm not taking you off the case, O'Malley.'

Will had come in and was standing quietly next to the open door. 'Spencer, Peterson just called. He's apparently got some new information. He wants you to wait to question Frankie till Silas and Artell get here.'

'Why?'

'We're not moving quickly enough, apparently.'

'So waiting till they get here is moving faster?'

'We're not moving quickly enough,' Will repeated stubbornly.

'For who?' Spencer was exasperated. 'It's Monday morning and she was found Thursday afternoon.'

'For the school,' Gallagher said. 'For Dartmouth. The dean of students and the president are getting a lot of pressure from the alumni and from the parents. A dead girl on campus, and the coroner's report clearly states it was murder. The papers have been carrying nothing but this story since Friday. Everyone's afraid it's an insane rapist.'

'Did you explain to them she wasn't raped?'

'That's immaterial. They know she had had sex sometime in the last seventy-two hours of her life. In many frightened minds it's the same thing.'

'Well, that's sick,' Spencer said. 'And it's not my fault.'

'No one is saying it's your fault.'

'How did the papers know about the sex, anyway?'

Will shrugged. 'Someone in the coroner's office must have seen the autopsy report.'

'Great. Just great,' Spencer exclaimed. 'Listen, I'm going to go and talk to Frankie. The AD As can question him again if they want.'

Will shook his head. Spencer walked past him, and then took five minutes to calm down near the soda machines in the adjacent fire department.

Spencer closed the door to the little white room behind him and stretched his hand across the round table to Frankie Absalom.

'I'm sorry you've been waiting for me so long, Frank. Or is it Frankie?'

'It's Frankie. But whatever you're comfortable with, man. I'm very relaxed about the whole thing.'

Spencer sat down.

Frankie was quiet. 'They kept me here overnight because I refused to talk to them. They think I did it, don't they?'

'Did you do it?'

'Of course not! Why did they have to keep me here, anyway?'

'My partner, Will, was suspicious. You should have just talked to him. He would have let you go then.'

'Yeah, I guess,' Frankie drew out and then fell quiet again. 'You've got a cool name,' he said. 'Not after Spencer Tracy by any chance?'

'One and the same,' said Spencer. 'If I had been a girl, my mother was all set to name me Katharine.'

Frankie laughed mildly. 'Yeah, and my mom named me Frankie after "Frankie and Johnny."'

Spencer smiled. 'In "Frankie and Johnny," Frankie was the girl.'

'Isn't that just so ironic?' said Frankie.

Spencer couldn't help but laugh. Frankie had his legs on the table and was dressed in perfectly ironed loose plaid pants, a black-and-white-striped jersey, and a black cap worn backward. He looked like a bum, but a well-ironed bum.

'Frankie, could you get your feet off the table? So we can be semiserious about this.'

Frankie moved his feet.

'So talk to me,' said Spencer, taking a sip of hot black coffee. 'Tell me.'

'Just once. For you,' Frankie said. 'Right?'

'Frankie, you're going to have to tell your story another six times before we're done with you, and then you'll go to court, where you'll tell it once to the grand jury, once to the prosecution, and once to the defense. As a material witness, you're going to be taped, and if there are inconsistencies in your story, the defense is going to crucify you in court. So be careful, be accurate, and be honest. Tell me what happened.'

Frankie lowered his voice, and his easy manner disappeared. 'Well, this is the thing. I don't want to feel like a squealer here.'

'Is this why you didn't come back to Dartmouth?' Spencer asked.

'Didn't come back? Oh, no, man.' Nodding, he said, 'Well, actually, yeah, I kind of ... I was feeling real funny about the whole thing. I thought I'd stay home and get some perspective.'

'Did you? Get some perspective?'

'Not much. Still feels like ratting on my friends. You know, the Mafia would garrote me for disloyalty.'

'Frankie, this is not the Mafia, and your friends are not crime lords. There will be no garroting, I promise.'

'Yeah, but I'm ratting on my friends.'

'Frankie, we want to live in a universe where we are the first cog in the wheel of justice. So let's start dispensing some. Talk to me.'

Frankie took his cap off, reconsidered, and then put it back on.

'You're not going to start lecturing me about good men keeping quiet while evil lives on, are you?' he asked.

'Certainly not,' said Spencer. 'Though I would not keep quiet.'

Frankie slowly nodded. 'No, I don't think you would, Detective O'Malley.'

Spencer kept his eyes on Frankie. 'Don't tell me you didn't tell me everything when we spoke on the phone,' he said.

Frankie shook his head. 'I didn't, man.'

'Frankie.' Spencer got up. 'God! This looks bad for you. And bad for me.'

'I'm sorry, I was extremely upset. You caught me off guard, calling like that. I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry, man, okay?'

Spencer sat back down. 'How do I know you're going to tell me everything now?'

'Because I am. You'll see.' Frankie bowed his head so far his hat nearly fell off, and he adjusted it. 'Feels like ratting.'

'You're doing the right thing. It's the right thing to do.'

'You say that. Detective Baker said that. But it sure doesn't feel like the right thing.'

'Frankie, did you kill Kristina Kim?'

'No, man, of course I didn't. What are you, kidding? I can't kill a cockroach, I'm, like, disturbed that way. Please. No.'

'What happened? Did you see someone else on the bridge?'

Frankie lifted his eyes in surprise. 'Yes. How did you know?'

Spencer didn't smile and got no satisfaction from knowing he was right. He was down on himself. 'Was it Conni?'

'God! Yes. How did you know?'

'I suspected all along that Conni went out to find Kristina,' said Spencer. 'She was very vague about where she'd been, and she was gone from her room a long time. Go on, talk to me.'

'Well, it's like this. When I came back from the bathroom and put my coat on to go back to my room, I looked out the window again.'

'Why did you do that?'

'I wanted to see if Krissy was coming back. Or if she was walking the wall again. Or something. I just looked out the window.'

'What time was that?'

'Maybe one twenty-five.' Frankie lowered his head again. 'I saw Conni,' he said quietly. 'I saw Conni walking very quickly down the bridge back to Hinman.'

Leaning back and calming down, Spencer asked, 'Was she alone?'

'Yes, alone.'

'How was she walking?'

'Quickly.'

'I mean, was she staring straight ahead, was she looking around? Was she close to running?'

'No, not any of those things. Maybe close to running.'

'She wasn't staring straight ahead and she wasn't looking around?'

'I didn't notice. It didn't strike me as unusual her head orientation. I suppose she was staring straight ahead.'

'I see. Is that all you saw?'

'All. I swear.' He crossed himself for emphasis.

Spencer leaned back. 'My, my,' he said. 'We have an eyewitness.'

'I didn't see her do anything, man. Nothing! That's the truth.'

Spencer narrowed his eyes at Frankie. 'I didn't say you did.'

'Well, I didn't, no.'

'Frankie, we don't have much time. The ADAs are a lot tougher than I am, and they're coming here to garrote you.'

'I thought you promised no garroting, man?'

'Only if you tell me everything.'

'I'm telling you everything. Everything,' Frankie repeated.

'What did you think of it? Her being on the bridge?'

Frankie looked uncomfortable. There was an edge to his voice when he said, 'Nothing. Should I have thought something of it?'

'You're not asking the questions here, Frankie. I don't know if you should have. As you know, the bridge leads to nowhere. Why would Conni have been on the bridge in the first place? Did you think of that?'

'No, I didn't think of that,' said Frankie, uneasily shifting in his chair.

Spencer watched him very carefully. 'Frankie, what?'

'Nothing.'

'What else?'

'Nothing. That's it, I packed up my books and went home. I just thought you'd want to know I saw Conni there.'

'You're right, I would want to know. What else, though?'