“Tommy and the people at the hotel?” Manfred was not too swift today, Olivia thought, because he seemed slow to hop on the bandwagon. “What about them?”

“We’ll take them to the Goldthorpe house,” Olivia said. “They might have known Rachel or her husband. You know how most people think old people all look alike? I’m willing to bet that Lewis won’t know they’re not friends of his mother’s or father’s.”

“They’re way older,” Manfred said. Olivia thought he seemed a little huffy, and she could not think why. “Rachel was in her early sixties. Tommy and his buddies have to be twenty years older, give or take five years.”

“Morton was older than Rachel, right? Maybe they were his friends.”

“Okay, assume we say they were. Assume these old people, whom we hardly know, agree to pretend they knew Morton. So what?”

“We get in in the daytime. No breaking in.” Olivia smiled broadly. “See, we’ve sent a letter ahead of time, telling Lewis that Mr. Quick had loaned some books to his old friend Morton Goldthorpe. He’s heard Morton passed, and he’s coming to collect the books. We take Tommy and one of the other oldies posing as his wife. That way we get into the library and have a look at what’s there.”

“You think Lewis will let us get that far? You’ve met him. Did he seem like a guy who would let in a stranger without a fight?”

“Maybe not, but we’ll have the old people with us, so what can he do about it?”

“He’s crazy bad and rude, Olivia. You can’t count on him to act like a guy with social skills. And especially if I were anywhere near. Lewis wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire.”

“I had this idea in a church. So it’s got to be a good one, if we just fine-tune it a little.” She was not completely serious, but she could visualize this all falling into place, and she thought it was the beginning of a real plan. She was frustrated that Manfred couldn’t seem to see its promise. “Manfred, it’s all confusion to the enemy!”

He smiled, a bit reluctantly. “That’s true,” he said. “But it sounds kind of sketchy, to say the least. Who will go with them?”

“Do you think we could talk Joe into it?”

“Joe . . . why him?”

“Because he just inspires a feeling of reliability. You trust him. Right?”

“That’s true. He’s the most likable resident of Midnight, with the possible exception of Bobo. What about Bobo?”

“He can’t leave work,” she said. “Let me review the domino effect we have going. Teacher used to take over during the day if Bobo wanted off. But now Teacher’s stuck in the convenience store until the owners find a permanent replacement. Lem isn’t here to keep the pawnshop open at night, so I’ve been filling in for him, though I can’t do it every night. I have my own business to conduct.”

“We should ask Bobo first, though.”

“Why are you being so freaking stubborn?”

“Because I know Bobo better, that’s all.”

“All right. Go over there and ask him.” Olivia marched into Manfred’s TV area and sat on the couch. She was obviously prepared to wait until kingdom come.

Manfred glanced at his telephone, and its light was blinking merrily. “I have to work,” he said. “I have bills to pay.”

“Like your lawyer bill? It’s only going to get higher if we don’t close this thing down.”

“I’ll be right back.” Manfred knew when to accept the situation. He was over at the pawnshop in less than a minute.

Though the day outside was bright and cloudless and blindingly hot, the inside of the pawnshop was dark and cool. Bobo was behind the high counter, sitting on a stool and typing on the keyboard.

“Guns,” he explained. “The paperwork on guns. Never ending.”

“Bobo, I have a favor to ask you.”

“I’m kind of stretched thin now, Manfred, but you can ask.”

Now that Manfred’s eyes were accustomed to the dusky light, he could see that Bobo looked tired and that his sleepy goodwill was simply sleepy. Suddenly, Manfred felt selfish. He was asking his landlord and friend to do something that was both an imposition and an inconvenience.

“Never mind,” he said.

Bobo smiled. “Well, okay. Normally I’d bug you to find out what you needed, but having Teacher stuck in place at the convenience store and Lemuel gone at the same time is running me ragged. And of course, this is the time when the shop’s gotten busy, for a reason I can’t even begin to understand.” As if to underline his words, the bell on the door chimed as a burly man came in carrying a guitar case. Bobo glanced at the wall of musical instruments on display and sighed. “Be right with you,” he called.

“It’s cool,” Manfred said. “You’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” He turned to go.

“Hey,” Bobo said abruptly. “Is it true that Fiji is going out with the bouncer from Cartoon Saloon?”

“So she says.”

“But he seems a little . . .” Bobo’s voice trailed off, and he waved a hand to convey what his words could not.

“A little what?” Manfred said, curious to see what Bobo would come up with.

“A little tough,” Bobo said.

This was interesting. “Yeah, well, bouncer,” Manfred said cautiously. “She says he’s also an EMT.”