“OK,” I said. “Your plan is as good as you’re going to get. Go for it.”
“Who was the guy with the shaved head?” he asked me.
“There’s never a reason,” he said. “I just do what I’m told.”
“Because all that evidence is old,” the doctor said. “Looks to me like he was driving a lot for a long period, but then he stopped. I think he’s done very little driving for nine months, maybe a year. So I make him a truck driver, but an unemployed truck driver.”
“Then I ask him if he knows a tall guy with a shaved head,” he said. “And I ask him about Pluribus. Well, my God! It’s like I stuck a poker up his ass. He went rigid. Like with shock. Totally rigid. Won’t answer. So I tell him we know the tall guy is dead. Shot to death. Well, that’s like another poker up the ass. He practically fell off the chair.”
I heard her sniffing, and then her voice came back clear.