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The sound of a key in the door brought Colin to his feet. He leaned against the doorframe, peering through the narrow opening, there was a real possibility that Mark had forced Annie to tell him where he was. His gun was ready if he needed it. He had never killed anyone, but now he had no reservations about killing Mark.

The door opened and Hallock stepped into the room. Colin waited to make sure he was alone. When the chief closed the door Colin felt his shoulders relax, as if he were deflating. So he wouldn't frighten him, he eased open the door. "Waldo," he said. "It's me, Colin."

Hallock's hand automatically went to his gun, then slid down as Colin appeared. "Jesus Christ, Maguire, what the hell you doing in there?"

"It's a long story."

Hallock looked around the damaged room. "What, for Christ's sake, happened here?"

"That's a longer story. We've got to get out of here."

"Where to?"

"Mark's got Annie."

He looked at Colin quizzically. "What do you mean, 'Mark's got Annie'?"

"I think Mark's the killer." It felt strange saying it out loud, as if someone else were speaking.

Hallock looked at him, said nothing, then took off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. "I gotta get out of these wet clothes."

Colin put a hand on his arm. "We don't have time for that. Don't you understand what I'm saying? Mark's alone with Annie."

"I don't think so. I passed her place and Griffing and Schufeldt were in the parking lot."

"Doing what?"

"Talking, it looked like. I couldn't see that good with the rain and all. What makes you think Griffing's the killer?"

"Lots of things."

Hallock dropped his wet trousers to the floor and kicked them across the room. "Tell me what you've come up with."

Colin pulled the gun from under his shirt.

Hallock held up a hand, palm out like a traffic cop. "Hey, boy."

"I took this from Mark. He had it trained on me this morning." Tossing it on the bed, Colin quickly filled him in on the last twenty-four hours. Hallock listened while he put on dry clothes.

When Colin finished Hallock said, "I think you're right. But where's your proof?"

"I don't have proof, but last Friday Mark left his house at six- thirty in the morning. Nobody knows where he was until nine-thirty. He told me he was with Amy, you know, his old girlfriend."

Hallock nodded, then pulled a brown turtleneck over his head.

"He wasn't with her, Waldo. I checked."

Hallock's head popped through the opening of the turtleneck, his hair mashed down on either side. "So where was he?"

"I think he was killing Joe Carroll."

"Thing is, Maguire, you haven't given me a motive."

Colin threw up his hands in defeat. "I haven't got one."

"I do."

"What is it?" he asked excitedly.

"Open that drawer, get some paper out. Pencil, too." He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans."

Colin did as Hallock asked.

"I want you to make the swastika just like our killer did."

"Why?"

"Just do it, Maguire, and stop being a goddamn pain in the butt."

"Okay, okay." He drew the swastika then held it out to Hallock.

"Now take it apart."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Just uncross the two parts. What do you get?"

Colin studied his drawing. "I don't know. One Z and maybe a weird-looking N?"

"Turn the weird-looking N around."

"I get another Z."

"Right. And the other symbols were A's, remember. Fact is, you spotted it first at Gildersleeve's that day."

"I don't get it. What's this supposed to be? Two Z's and three A's. What's that?"

"You remember how we were looking for a common denominator? I found it."

"Well, what is it?"

"About twenty-five years ago we had a bad fire here and a lot of people were-"

"Omigod!"

"What?"

"The fire. Was it a nightclub?"

"Yeah. You know about it?"

"I was reading about it this morning when Mark came in with the gun. What's this got to do with the Z's and A's?"

"I guess you didn't get very far in the story. The name of the club was Razzamatazz."

"Razzamatazz," Colin repeated, as the letters started to fall into place, one after another, like plums in a slot machine.

"Gloria Danowski's parents were in that fire. And Ruth and Russ Cooper. Mary Beth Higbee's grandparents, and Ted and Mary Carroll, too. Don't know about Babe yet."

"Jesus, Waldo, do you think the killer is planning to spell out the whole name?"

"Three A's and four Z's so far. Yeah, I think he is."

They were silent a few moments contemplating that horrible possibility. Then Hallock said, "Griffing's family were summer residents twenty-five years ago. You know anything about them?"

"He had a stepmother. His mother died when he was a kid. I don't think he ever said how. Oh, Jesus, Waldo. Annie's father was in the band that played there when the place went up."

"He alive?"

"Yeah."

"What's her number?"

Colin told him.

Hallock dialed, looking grim. After ten rings he replaced the receiver. "Not there."

"What should we do?" An icy sweat dotted Colin's body like measles.

"Maybe she's at a friend's."

Colin leaned against the wall trying to hide his anxiety from Hallock. "Let me think. Moffat. She has a friend named Moffat."

"Which one? There are a lot of Moffats on the Fork. Hey, you okay? You look white as a sheet?"

"I'm okay. It's Peg Moffat, I think."

"Tim Moffat's wife?"

"Yes. I think Annie said that was his name."

Hallock reached for the phone book under the night table. Finding the number, he dialed.

Colin watched and waited, his mouth dry, breathing shallow. He could not fall apart now, would not.

"Is this Peg Moffat?" Hallock asked. "Well, this is Waldo Hallock. I'm fine, thanks. Listen, Peg, I'm trying to get in touch with Annie Winters. She there, by any chance? Uh-huh. I tried her at home just a few minutes ago. You have any idea where she might be? Uh-huh. I see. Well, thanks. You, too." He hung up. "Peg said she went to a meeting, then went home. She talked to her for a minute after the meeting, and Annie told her the same story she told you about being followed. Anyplace else she might be?'

"I warned her about Mark, told her to get away from him. Maybe she did."

"Listen, maybe she's down at the station. Maybe something happened with her and Griffing and that asshole Schufeldt did something right for a change. She could have been in his car when I passed."

"How can we find out?"

"We can go there. Ask."

"I can't. Schufeldt's looking for me. That's what happened to this place. He shot it up thinking I was in here."

"You kidding me?"

"No. He stood in the doorway and blasted this room like he was at target practice."

"Jesus, what a stupid fuck. Okay, listen. I'll go down there, see what's what. Then I'll come back for you and we'll go over to the paper. I want to see if anybody in Griffing's family bought it in that fire. And then I'm going to go after the bastard." Hallock slipped into his jacket, put his gun in his belt. "You lie low here, Maguire. Don't use the phone."

"I won't. But what if it rings? What if Annie's trying to get in touch with me?"

Hallock ran his thumb down the side of his long nose. "Don't answer it. You can't trust Liz. I'll get back fast as I can."

As he went out, Hallock flipped off the lights, leaving Colin in darkness. The storm seemed stronger than ever, wind and rain rushing the room like a berserk presence. Hallock grunted as he fought to close the door.

After he'd gone, Colin carefully made his way toward the bed, felt around for his gun, shoved it in his belt, then lay down. He told himself he didn't have to go with Hallock to the paper. Dr. Safier had said over and over that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do. But he wanted to help Hallock find Annie. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself in the car with Hallock. Almost immediately his breathing changed to quick short takes. His eyes snapped open as he dispelled the image.