She gave him a patient half smile. “Not a good time, Shawn. Things are about to get ugly here.”

Shawn cast a glance down at the mob on the stairs. “I can hold the fire hose on them if you turn on the water.”

“It’s not the crowd, Shawn,” she said. “This is a bad crime scene and you shouldn’t be here. It’s not going to be one of those fun murders.”

“There was a murder?” Shawn said.

“No, Spencer,” Lassiter snapped. “Santa Barbara’s two top homicide detectives are here because we had a tip Happy Donuts was about to deliver a fresh batch to the cafe here.”

“Let’s see, then,” Shawn said.

“I’ll make sure to bring you back a cream-filled,” Lassiter said. “Better yet, I’ll have Officer McNab drop it by your office.”

Shawn risked a quick look behind him and saw that Gus was still creeping along toward Kitteredge. He waggled his hand behind his back to urge him to hurry, then leaned in conspiratorially to the detectives. “You could do that,” Shawn said. “Or I could just tell you the identity of the killer right now.”

As the detectives leaned in to hear what Shawn had to say, Gus slipped behind them and walked up to Kitteredge. “Professor?”

Langston Kitteredge looked at him like he’d just awakened from a deep sleep. “I am Langston Kitteredge,” he said.

“I know you are, sir,” Gus said. “I’m Gus. Burton Guster.”

Kitteredge looked blank. “Burton Guster?”

He must be in shock, Gus thought. He dug into his breast pocket and pulled out the letter Kitteredge had sent him. “You wanted to meet me here tonight,” Gus said, pointing to the important parts of the letter. “There was something crucially important you needed to discuss with me. Although from the looks of things I’m a little too late.”

“Why do you say that?” Kitteredge said.

“Well, generally you want to call a private detective before things get so bad the police are involved,” Gus said. “But my partner, Shawn Spencer, and I will do everything we can to help you now.”