"No. That's what I'm trying to tell you. He doesn't talk much, period."
Swenson turned contemplative, laced his hands over his belt buckle. "I see… So it's something altogether new."
Dollard jutted his head in my direction. "You'd better tell us what you were talking to him about. We need to know, in case he starts acting out."
Aldrich said, "Is there some problem, Frank?"
"These people are a problem, Dr. Aldrich. They keep coming in here, disrupting, going at Peake. Mr. Swig authorized only fifteen minutes with the SDL group, no time with Peake." He pointed through the door. "Look at that. Guy like that, who knows what could happen? And for what? He couldn'ta had anything to do with Dr. Argent. I told 'em that, you told 'em that, Mr. Swig told 'em that-"
Aldrich turned to Milo. "What is your purpose here, Officer?"
"Investigating Dr. Argent's murder."
Aldrich shook his head. "That's not an answer. Why are you questioning PeakeT'
"He said something that might have predicted Dr. Argent's murder, Doctor."
"Predicted? What in the world are you talking about?"
Milo told him.
" 'In a box,' " said Aldrich. He faced Heidi. Steenburg and Swenson did the same. "When did he say this to you?"
"The day before it happened."
"An oracle?" said Steenburg. "Oh, please. And now he's Jesus-am I the only one who sees a trend toward irrelevance?"
Swenson said, "At least it's original. Relatively, that is. We don't get a lot of Jesuses anymore." He smiled. "Plenty of Elvises but not that many Jesuses. Maybe it's the godless state of our culture."
No one else seemed amused.
Swenson wouldn't give up. "We can always do what Milton Erickson did with his Jesuses-give him carpenter's tools and have him fix something."
Aldrich scowled and Swenson looked the other way.
"Officer," said Aldrich, "let me get this clear: on the basis of this supposed… utterance, you're back here?"
"It's an unsolved homicide, Dr. Aldrich."
"Even so…" Aldrich moved closer to the doorway and peered inside. Peake hadn't budged. He closed the door.
Dollard said, "They caused a ruckus in SDL, too. Herman Randall's all worked up, shouting Nazi stuff in his room. We might think of upping his meds."
"Might we?" said Aldrich. He turned to Heidi. "How about you and I meeting after lunch to review Mr. Peake's file. Make sure what we're seeing in there isn't some kind of regression."
"I'd think just the opposite," I said. "He's showing more mobility and affective response."
"Affective response?"
"He was crying, Dr. Aldrich."
Aldrich took another look inside. "Well, he's not crying now. Just hanging there looking pretty regressed. Looks like catalepsy to me."
I said, "Is there any chance of reducing his meds?"
Aldrich's eyes bugged. "Why in the world would we do that!"
"It might loosen him up verbally."
"Loosen him up," said Swenson. "Just what we need, a loose Jesus."
A couple of figures in khaki had drifted out of the TV room. The inmates stared at us, began heading our way. Swenson and Steenburg stepped forward. The men turned, reversed direction, collected near the door to the TV room, returned inside.
Aldrich said, "Thank you for your opinion, Doctor. However, you and Officer Sturgis must leave immediately. No further contact with Mr. Peake or any other patients until cleared by myself or Mr. Swig." To Steenburg and Swenson: "We'd better get moving. The reservation's at one."
Crossing the yard, Dollard walked even farther ahead. Big Chet was on the yard and he started to come over, gesticulating and laughing, rugging at his hair like a toddler.
Dollard's palm shot out. "Stay back!"
The giant halted, pouted, yanked a clump of hair out of his head. The yellow filaments floated to the ground like dandelion petals.
His expression said, Look what you made me do.
"Idiot," Dollard growled.
Chet's eyes slitted.
Dollard waved and two techs jogged over from across the yard. Chet saw them, froze, finally skulked away. Four steps later, he stopped, looked at us over his shoulder.
"Mark my words," he bellowed. "Cherchez la femme Champs Elysees!"
Dollard threw the gate open, slammed it after us, left without a word.
As we waited to get Milo's gun and my knife, I said, "Something sure yanked his shorts."
"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" he said. The moment we got in the Seville, he was on the cell phone, asking for the number of the Hemet police department. I let the car idle as he talked. The car seat was a griddle and I cranked the air-conditioning to an arctic blast. Milo got transferred half a dozen times, maintained collegia! cheer through every step, but he looked as if he'd swallowed something slimy. The air inside the car cooled, hit my face, turned my sweat icy. Milo was drenched.
He hung up. "Finally got a supervisor who'd talk. Heidi was right. Dollard was a major-league goldbrick: ignored calls in his zone, took unauthorized leaves, put in for unjustified overtime. They couldn't prove anything serious enough to prosecute him-probably didn't want to. Easier just to ask him to leave."
"How long ago was this?"
"Four years ago. He went straight to Starkweather. Supervisor made a crack about nutcases being perfect for Frank, no one to complain when he slacked off."
"Swig likes him," I said. "Tells you something about Swig."
"High standards, all around."
I drove out of the parking lot. Convection waves rose from the asphalt.
"What did you do to get Peake to play Jesus in the school play?"
"Mentioned the Ardullos' names. After I got a response to Claire's name-eye tics, tensing up. When I whispered Brittany's and Justin's names into his ear he jumped up, ran to the wall, assumed the pose. I'd been thinking of him as lethargic, stuporous, but he can move fast when he wants to. If he'd jumped me, I'd have been unprepared."
"So he's not a total veg. Maybe he's a sneaky bastard, playing all of us. Makes sense when you think about how he walked in on his mother. She's sitting there coring apples, he gets behind her, she has no idea what he's going to do."
"He surprised the Ardullos, too," I said. "Sheriff Haas said they left their doors unlocked."
"Everyone's nightmare. Right out of a splatter flick."
The eucalyptus forest appeared, a big gray bear split by a yawning mouth of road.
"So," he said, "was he crying real tears?"
"Copiously. But I'm not sure it was remorse. When he turned and stared at me, I started to feel something else: self-pity. The Jesus pose fits that, too. As if he sees himself as a martyr."
"Sick bastard," he said.
"Or maybe," I said, "hearing the kids' names evoked an overpowering memory. Recall of not acting alone. Of taking the rap for something the Crimmins brothers put him up to. Maybe he communicated that to Claire. I didn't see anything close to speech, but with a lowered dosage…"
He cooled his hands on the air-conditioning vent. "Why do you think Dollard turned so hostile?"
"Antsy about our return visit. Something to hide."
Milo didn't answer. We exited the forest and summer light whitened the windshield. The trees shimmered as they broiled. I could sense the heat trying to claw its way in.
"What about some kind of hospital scam?" I said. "Financial mismanagement. Or trafficking in prescription drugs. Claire found out about it and that's what put her in jeopardy. Maybe Peake knew, too. Learned someone was going to hurt Claire and the 'prophecy' was his way of warning her."
We were free of the hospital grounds, heading toward the sludge yards and the freight barns. I wondered where the rear forest behind the annexes led, was unable to see the tall dark trees from here.
"How would Peake find out?" he said.
"Loose lips. Everyone assumes he's vegetative, can't process. I saw enough today to convince me that's not true. If Dollard was involved in something illegal, he might've said or done something that Peake noticed."