Curtis broke down and tried to take some of the blame for Sandra's part in the bank fraud until he was told she had blamed him for the whole thing and then he charged across the office and flung himself against the interview room door only to find it locked, resulting in a massive egg on his head and a fractured wrist. Ted was left waiting for the arrival of additional detectives who were in charge of the diner robberies and who had first crack at him, and he asked if he could make a call to Paris Flats, until he was needed.

"We ran a little check on you, Mr. Wagner. Seems you are connected to all this a little tighter than you let on." Cannoti offered an opening for Ted's explanation instead of agreeing to the phone call.

"I'll explain everything if you just let me make the call first."

"It's not to a lawyer is it?"

"No, I promise. It's my girl. She'll be worried." He liked the sound of, my girl, and it seemed to evoke a touch of sympathy from the Sergeant.

"Go ahead."

Ted took the phone and dialed, shifting the ice pack around while he listened to the ring. "Toni?"

"No. Who's this?"

"Is Toni there?"

"No. Who's this I asked."

"Is she at work?" Ted didn't like the sound of the guy's voice or the fact that there was a guy even answering her phone.

"You answer me and I'll answer you, buddy. Otherwise buzz off."

"Is this number the one I've reached?" Ted ran off the number and waited.

"I'll give you that one. Yes. Now who is this? Last time."

"My name is Edward Wagner and I would like to get in touch with Antoinette Fulmer." Silence. "Hello?"

"You must be a very close friend, Edward. Nobody calls my sister, Antoinette."

"Sister?"

"I'm Doug Fulmer, Toni's big brother."

Ted explained his reason for calling and skirted about their relationship with the brother, keeping an eye on Cannoti's skeptical look. Toni was at work and wouldn't be home for a few more hours. Ted said he'd call back. A big brother? She never mentioned any big brother.

"Wagner?" A tall police officer, with his sleeves rolled up and a blue file folder waved him toward the interview office and waited until he was inside then led him over to a desk where he recognized the detective from the diner robbery and killing. He glanced back into the outer office as Cannoti strolled by and winked.

"We meet again." He rolled a form into the old typewriter and bashed out a few characters with a heavy touch. "You were supposed to researching a novel if I'm not mistaken."

"That's right. First attempt. I was gathering atmosphere, remember?"

"Well you sure got yourself sack full didn't you? Tell me, Mr. First Time Novelist, how come I find you on the scene of a second killing in as many weeks."

"Lucky?"

"Not for you, son." He began another attack on the typewriter and Ted slumped in the chair preparing for a long evening.

"Like to tell me what you were doing there?"

"I already told three other cops."

"We don't talk much. Tell me. And tell it all." The warning was implicit in the tone.

Ted did. Right from the day they first met at the diner, finishing with a request for a cold drink of water.

"So you were going to be the masked avenger."

"Something like that." Hadn't he had this same conversation with Gabe? "I just felt I needed to satisfy myself that that waitress, Nadine, her name by the way, that she got justice."

"I must have made quite an impression on you as a representative of that department."

"I didn't mean that kind of justice." Ted looked at the detective and saw a flicker of wary understanding.

"Whatever you might think of our system, Wagner, we do get the job done eventually and justice does get served." Ted didn't speak. "Be thankful that it wasn't you on the other end of that gun. Mrs. Maxwell is going to be a long time arguing justifiable homicide."

"You've got all our statements. She was justified."

"In your opinion."

"Yeah in my opinion. Jesus if you saw what that bastard was about to do—"

The detective held up a finger and aimed it at Ted's face. "I did see, at the hotel."

Ted looked up in surprise.

"That's right, Wagner, I was there too. That woman he raped is still in shock and they aren't certain she'll come out of it very soon or in very good mental shape if she does." He leaned back and took a breath. "So don't tell me what I know, okay?"

He went back to his typing and an agonizing fifteen minutes later yanked the form out of the machine and passed it and a pen across to Ted. "Read it and sign it."

"What about the Sandra dame?"

"She's charged with accessory to murder, robbery and assault, home invasion and fraud. She'll be returning to Caulfield for sure."

"Think that's enough?" Ted asked wryly.

"We can only hope. The banker guy is coming apart at the seams and giving us blow by blow of each minute of each day since he met her. Some of those minutes he got pretty lucky."

"That's a point of view. What ever happened to Chester?" Ted scrawled his signature and shoved the form back.

"He got a new waitress and he's back cookin'."

"Hit him real hard, didn't it." Ted put his ice pack on the desk and the detective frowned. "What about your sciatica?" The look was a cross between amusement and grim and Ted understood their bonding time was over.

"You realize you'll probably be called at some point to testify."

"I'm gonna be in Paris Flats for a while... quite a while I hope."

"Stick to writin' your stories, Wagner, not livin' them."