“With twins on the way, you probably don’t need your left nut anymore, so that’s not much of a bet,” Trane said.

Knox waved her off. “Stay focused. What are all those scribbled notes?”

“We kept adding things that seemed relevant, stuff that we knew. First of all, from something she said, I’m almost certain that Megan Quill took her friends over to her father’s house at one time or another. We can talk to Megan about that. Both Renborne and Krause knew him, they both disliked him, so there was some contact. I’d be willing to bet that’s where Krause found out about the laptop in the library. Quill had three cars. He had a fob for each of them, with lots of keys on them—for his house, his lab, his various offices and the carrel, and probably for the library’s outer doors. I wouldn’t be surprised that if we looked at all three, we’d find that one of them is missing the library keys. Because Krause was inside the house, knew what they were, and he took them.”

“How would he know which keys were which?”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know. But if you’re smart, you could find out. Like, if Quill had two similar keys and three different ones on each fob, then the two similar keys would be for the library.”

“That’s thin,” Trane said.

“I know, but if I could figure it out, I think Krause could, too. I’d be interested to know if Megan had a key to her father’s house and knew the security code. If she did, that would mean that she and her friends could have been in the house when Quill wasn’t. Could have looked around.”

Trane said, “I’ve been talking to the Ramsey medical examiner. They say Renborne’s death is suspicious. The cause of death is definitely an overdose. The manner of death they’re going to list as undetermined—possibly accident, suicide, or homicide. The question is, why would Krause have killed him?”

“Because Renborne figured it out,” Virgil said.

“Couldn’t prove it now,” Knox said. “Unless he told somebody else.”

“Like Megan,” Trane said.

“She could be in jeopardy herself if she’s figured out who killed her father or who killed Renborne,” Virgil said. “Krause wants to get in her pants. If he gets in and there’s some pillow talk . . .”

“We need to talk to that girl,” Trane said.

“Let’s go with Virgil’s line of thought here,” Knox said, “the rest of your scribbles.”

“Terry Foster got attacked,” Virgil said. “He had talked to Megan Quill, Renborne, and Krause on the street, over by St. Thomas. I called him last night. He said he never identified himself, but when I pushed him, he said he drove his car past them. If Krause saw his license plate—he’s a hacker—and if he looked at the DMV, he’d have Foster’s home address. And Krause exactly fits Foster’s description of his attacker.”

“There’s more?” Knox asked.

“All kinds of stuff,” Virgil said. He was talking a hundred miles an hour. “When I was talking to Megan Quill the first time, Krause was there—that’s when he slapped his laptop—and he did perfect imitations of Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. We have people who say the person on the CD sounded like Barth Quill, but maybe not exactly like him. They’re doubtful.”

“So Krause can do voices—like the CD, and China White tip we got,” Trane said.

“Yeah. And the rest of it: there’s a Clue game in Megan Quill’s closet, and he’s a fanatic gamer. He’s been toying with us, all those Clue names: Green, White, Peacock, Blackie, the dog. Here’s another thing: he went to high school in England for eleventh grade, and Megan said he came back with an accent. He said Barth Quill’s girlfriend was wearing English riding clothes and had a dog named Blackie. Well, in the English version Clue Mr. Black is the victim; in the American version, it’s Mr. Boddy. Krause played the game in England . . . I don’t believe there’s actually a girlfriend; I think he made her up of composites of people he saw in that Starbucks—a woman in riding clothes, a guy with a dog.”

Knox pressed his index finger to his lips, thinking, then said, “Okay. I’m buying it.”

“So am I,” Trane said. “Because I’ve got one more thing that Virgil doesn’t.”

Virgil: “What?”

“After you called last night, I got up early and got Krause’s phone records,” Trane told Virgil. “His phone was often blacked out, as if he’d pulled the battery.”

“That little asshole has a Faraday bag,” Virgil said. “He used it on Quill’s telephone.”

“That’s what I think,” Trane said.

Knox: “I’m buying it, but I don’t think we’re going to find a judge who’ll issue us a search warrant on the basis of Krause playing Clue and the coincidence of those names.”

“Not really a coincidence,” Virgil said. “He knew the Green name, and he played on that with the others.”

“Do you think we could get a warrant?” Knox asked.

“Maybe with the right judge.”

“Not here in Hennepin. Maybe from one of those good ol’ boys down in Hogwash Corners, but not here,” Knox said. “Maggie, what do you think?”

“I think you’re right,” she told Knox. “We’re not there yet, on a warrant. I’ve talked to Megan Quill a couple of times. She felt bad about her father, even if they had a rough relationship. I know for sure she’s freaked out about Renborne. I think we talk to her. I think we can set a trap, if she’ll cooperate. Bug her room. Get Krause in there . . .”

“Could work,” Knox said.

“Gotta be careful,” Virgil said. “If he reacted like he did with Barth Quill, he could whack her with something before we could get in the room.”

“We also have to be ready for an adamant and detailed denial of why he couldn’t have done it,” Knox said. “Get that on tape and it’d get a lot tougher in court later on; the jury would hear nothing but a denial.”

“Let’s work through all of that, do some brainstorming,” Trane said. “Maybe we don’t have to get Megan involved. If we do, we’ll have to be careful.”

“All we need is enough to get a warrant,” Virgil said. “I’ll bet you a zillion dollars that he’s still got that computer. I’ll bet he’s hotter for that laptop than he is for Megan Quill.”

Knox asked, “Which one of you is going to talk to Quill?”

Trane and Virgil glanced at each other and simultaneously said, “Both of us.”