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blooms from May to October. Over time, he'd discovered that money invested in planting returned three-to-one in enhanced curb appeal. Oddly, the gardening had slowly become perhaps his favorite side of the endeavor. His father's father was a farmer in Poland. And now Larry was back there. What he loved was that it dialed him in on stuff that never mattered before. In the middle of the winter, he'd think about the frost in the soil, the microbes that were dying, and the nurturing snow. He kept track of the angle of the sun, and changed his mind each day about whether he wanted rain. The earth was beneath the street-that was how he always thought about it.
    It was well past 4 p . M . when he approached the airport. The Task Force that Harold Greer had assembled at Paradise had stormed through the Tri-Cities for about five weeks, but as Larry had anticipated, Greer had no luck running an investigation out of police headquarters in the great, stone edifice of McGrath Hall. That was nothing but a medieval palace, full of rumors about who was humping who and which undeserving jerk the Chief and the commanders were favoring. No serious police work went on there, except the persistent cop pastimes of politicking and grousing. In August, the FBI thought they had grabbed the right guy in Iowa. It didn't prove out, but by then most of the detectives had headed back to their old stuff. So far as Larry could tell, he was the only dick on the Task Force still generating reports more often than every couple of weeks.
    Luisa had proved enigmatic enough to maintain his interest. Even the autopsy had raised questions about the precise circumstances of her death. Around her anus, Painless had identified a number of superficial linear tears marked by faint streaks of blood. Dead people didn't bleed. Larry's current theory was that she'd succumbed to a first sexual violation, hoping to save her life. But what did Judson, the third victim who eventually dragged her body downstairs, do while Luisa was being assaulted? Had an accomplice held a gun on him?
    By now, Larry had parked in front of the huge Administrative Center TN Air had recently completed. With the advent of shorter- stopping jets, Trans-National had reinitiated service at DuSable, sewing a distinctive target market, namely businessmen and gamblers. The airline offered no-frills fares to other Midwestern cities, and to Las Vegas and Atlantic City, where planes flew twenty-four hours a day. The program had been an astonishing success. Three other national carriers had bought gates, and the county airport authority had authorized a huge expansion, hoping to relieve the round-the-clock mess at the massive Tri-Cities Airport. The major hotel and restaurant chains were breaking ground nearby and TN, to much fanfare, had recently opened this new Administrative Center, where, five years ago, a deserted housing project had stood. The concrete structure had a glass atrium attached to the front in the shape of a rolling pin. It was typical new construction -thin walls and bright lights. Larry didn't go much for modern.
    He had asked TN Security to arrange another interview of Genevieve Carriere, a ticket agent whom everyone referred to as Luisa's best friend. Nancy Diaz, a former Kindle County copper, like most of the Security staff, had Genevieve in her office when Larry arrived, and Nancy left Larry alone with her while Nancy headed off to cover something else.
    "Erno wants to talk to you when you're done," Nancy told him from the door. Erno Erdai was the Deputy Head of Security at the airline, and ran the show out here. Larry had known Erno for years - they had started in the Academy together-but Erno hadn't bothered to greet him the first couple of times Larry had come snooping around. Erno always wanted Larry to know how big he'd gotten.
    Nancy's interior office had a desk with wood-grained laminate and intense fluorescent glow to make up for the lack of windows. In her persimmon uniform,