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Suddenly Arnold Loftus came roaring forward. He didn’t try to bar their way, he rounded on Jay Smith. “Shut up, Jay. They’re here for a reason. Don’t try to stop them.”

“You’re the damned bodyguard. Don’t let them go in there, you moron, you’ve—”

Arnold very gently picked up Jay Smith beneath his armpits and simply walked away with him. He said over his shoulder, “The Little Shit fired me. Whatever it is, go for it.”

Dane gently turned the handle. The door was locked. He turned to Jay, still held up by his armpits, and held out his hand. “Key,” was all he said.

Arnold let Jay down, watched him like a hawk as he went to his desk, got down on his knees, and untaped a key beneath the center drawer. He handed it to Dane.

“Thank you,” Dane said.

Dane quietly unlocked the door, slowly pushed it open. The huge office was dark, like a movie theater, and indeed, there was a movie showing, on the far white wall. Linus Wolfinger was seated in the chair behind his desk, his chin propped up in his hands, watching.

It was an episode of The Consultant, one they hadn’t seen. He didn’t look away from the screen even after all six of the people who’d come into his office were standing around his desk.

He said in a calm, conversational voice, “My dear old dad blew the whistle, I take it?”

“No,” Delion said. “Your dad told us about how he’d found out that his son was a murderer, but no, he didn’t tell us your name.”

“That crazy old pile of bones told you then.”

Savich said, “Actually, we managed to figure it out. MAX, my computer, verified for us that you were born Robert Allen DeLoach, and you attended Garrett High School here in LA. Here’s a photo of you.”

Savich laid the photo faceup on Wolfinger’s desk. Linus didn’t bother to look at it.

Sherlock said, “We also found the real Michael Linus Wolfinger. Here’s his photo. He isn’t you.”

Linus waved a hand. “The guy died in a skiing accident, nothing more. He was an orphan. Taking his identity wasn’t a problem. I wanted to work in the studio. With the year in that institution, I knew no one would hire me.” Linus shrugged. “Who the hell cares?”

“Tell us about the girl in college,” Dane said.

Linus shrugged again, his fingers were tapping on the desktop. He couldn’t seem to keep himself still. “Silly little twit, told me she wouldn’t go out with a nerd. I twisted her neck until it broke. Unfortunately my father came in before I could get rid of her body. But he helped me, told me that I wasn’t like my grandfather, that he was going to get me help. I argued with him but he told me I had no choice. For my own good, he was putting me in an institution. If I didn’t agree, he’d turn me over to the police.”

Linus looked at them again, shrugged. “I am very smart, you know. In fact, I’m more than smart. I’m a genius. That year in the Mountain Peak Institution, in the butt-end of nowhere—well, I used that year to plan out what I wanted to do with my life. It was right after that that Wolfinger died and I took on his name and his past. Dear old dad got me a job here at the studio. Then I met Miles Burdock and impressed the hell out of him, which was tough, but I told you, I’m a genius. I’ve proved it. I’ve made lots and lots of money for the studio. That’s why all the old duffers around here call me Little Shit. They’re all jealous. Hey, I’m the crown prince, the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to this place.”

He paused a moment, looked at Savich. “I don’t suppose my daddy knocked off my grandfather?”

“No,” Dane said, “but he really wanted to. He still does. How did you find out about your grandfather? How did you even know where he is?”

Linus laughed. “I was at my dad’s house last month and came across a paid invoice to the old folks’ home. I had never met my grandfather, but I did know that my dad hated him. He told me several times that he’d never put that old man in my life, never. I suppose my dad told you that?”

Dane nodded.

“I wanted to meet him, maybe find out why my dad hated him so much. I even took him a Christmas present. Do you know what I found