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Cle in the door to his office He had his suit jacket off, shirt collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, and tie askew The gabardine pants looked like the sao, bunched up in the seat, pleated rinkles across the lap I followed hiarette smoke His secretary tippy-tapped back to her desk out front, radiating disapproval

Both chairs were croith law books, tongues of scrap paper hanging out where he’d es I stood while he cleared a space for me to sit down Heaudibly He stubbed out his cigarette with a shake of his head

"Out of shape," he re back in his swivel chair "What are we going to do with that Bailey, huh? Guy’s a fuckin’ lunatic, taking off like that"

I filled hi his version of the escape while Jack Clee of his nose and shook his head in despair "What a jerk No accounting for the way these guys see things"

He reached for a letter and gave it a contemptuous toss "Look at this Knohat that is? Hate o when I was a PD He writesI did to him Jesus When I was in the AG’s office, the AG did a survey of prisoners as to who they blamed for their conviction- you know, ’why are you in prison and whose fault is it?’ Nobody ever says, ’It’s ets blamed is their oyer ’If I’da had a real lawyer instead of a PD, I’da got off’ That’s the nuuy that was blaainst hie who sentenced hie, this woulda never happened’ Nuated the case, the investigating officer, whoever caught ’i attorney Less than ten percent of the people they surveyed could even re end of the business" He snorted and leaned forward on his elbows, shoving files around on his desk "Anyway, skip that How’s it going fro?"

"I don’t know yet," I said carefully "I just talked to the principal at Central Coast High He tells me he saw Jean at the Baptist church a couple of times in the months before she was killed Word was she was infatuated with your son"

Dead silence "Mine?" he said

I shrugged noncommittally "Kid named John

Clemson I assume he’s your son Was he the student leader of the church youth group?"

"Well, yeah, John did that, but it’s news toto you?"

"No, but I’ll ask"

"Why don’t I?"

A pause Jack Clemson was too much the professional to object "Sure, why not?" He jotted an address and a telephone number on a scratch pad "This is his business"

He tore the leaf off and passed it across the desk toeyes with me "He’s not involved in her death"

I stood up "Let’s hope not"

16

The business address I’d been given turned out to be a seven-hundred-square-foot pharuera The complex itself bore an eerie resemblance to the padres’ quarters of half the California missions I’d seen: thick adobe walls, co colonnade of twenty-one arches, with a red tile roof, and what looked like an aqueduct tucked into the landscaping Pigeons wereto copulate on a perilously tiny ledge

The pharly, did not sell beach balls, lawn furniture, children’s clothing, or motor oil To the left of the entrance were tidy displays of dental wares, fe pads, corn remedies, body braces of divers kinds, and colosto the over-the-counter medications while the pharmacist’s assistant chatted with a-customer about the efficacy of vitamin E for hot flashes The place had a faintly che on fresh Polaroid prints Thebehind a shoulder-high partition in a white coat, his head bent to his work He didn’t look atto his assistant, who leaned forward

"Miss Millhone?" she said She wore pants and a yellow polyester smock with patch pockets, one of those uniforms that would serve equally for a waitress, an au pair, or an LVN