“Thanks again, Dr. Delaware. I'll be in touch.”

She sped away and I returned to the house, thinking about the meager history she'd given me.

Nolan too smart to be a cop. But plenty of cops were smart. Other characteristics- athletic, macho, dominant, attracted to the dark side- fit the police stereotype. A few years bumming around before seeking the security of a city job and a pension. Right-wing political views; I'd have liked to hear more about that.

She'd also described a partial family history of serious mood disorder. A cop judged “different” by his peers.

That could add to the alienation brought about by the job.

Nolan's life sounded full of alienation.

So even though his sister was understandably shocked, no big surprises, so far.

Nothing that came close to explaining why Nolan had sucked his gun at Go-Ji's.

Not that I was likely to get any closer to it, because the way she'd left told me it would probably be a one-shot deal.

In my business you learn to make do with unanswered questions.

3

Milo called two days later, at 8:00 A.M.

“They just gave me another cold one, Alex. I'm not sure I can pay you, though we did get brownie points on the last thing, so maybe.”

The last thing was the murder of a psychology professor stalked and stabbed a few yards from her home in Westwood. Thinking it unsolvable after months of no leads, Milo 's superiors had handed it to him as punishment for being the only openly gay detective in LAPD. We'd learned a few secrets about the victim and he'd managed to close the file.

“Well, I don't know,” I said. “Why the hell should I do you any favors?”

He laughed. “Because I'm such a pleasant fellow?”

I simulated a game-show buzzer. “Try again.”

“Because you're a shrink and committed to unconditional acceptance?”