slip up. And they usually slip up on the timeline, Amos. They can’t be in two places at the same time. You know that as well as anyone.”

“They do slip up, but not by that much,” countered Decker. “Fifteen minutes, maybe half an hour can be fudged, but not hours. It was a huge hole. If he was meticulous in other respects, why not with that critical piece? I’m just saying it’s something to keep in mind.”

Jamison asked, “When will you be back?”

“In about an hour.”

He clicked off and stared out at the highway as the vastness of Texas stretched ahead of them. All the way to the horizon the topography looked exactly the same. He closed his eyes and let his mind whir back to something that was gnawing at him.

Bogart glanced over and saw this, something he had seen often back in Burlington.

“What?” he asked.

Decker kept his eyes closed but said, “Shotgun then fire.”

“Come again?”

“They were killed with the shotgun and then set on fire.”

“That’s what the police report said, yes. Why?”

In his mind Decker brought up the photos of the charred bodies. The good thing about hyperthymesia was that he saw things exactly as they were; no detail was missing. Nothing inserted, nothing taken away. Clear as a mirror.

“Pugilistic.”

“What?”

“The bodies were in the pugilistic pose.”

Milligan glanced at him. “Right. Fire makes muscles, tendons, ligaments stiffen and contract, whether the victim was dead or alive before the fire was started. Fists clench, arms bend, you look like a fighter in the ring in a defensive stance.”

“Hence the name,” said Decker, whose eyes were still closed. “The shotgun blast killed them, clearly.”

Milligan shrugged. “Shotgun blasts to the head from a close distance are always fatal. Nature of the beast.”

Decker opened his eyes. “So why burn the bodies? If they were already dead? And I don’t believe it was symbolic.”

Bogart said, “The police reports raised that question but never answered it. If it was done to make identifying the bodies more difficult, it didn’t work. They were identified by their dental records. And even if that hadn’t worked, you can still get DNA off a burned body.”

“But maybe the killer didn’t know that.”

“You mean maybe Melvin Mars didn’t know that?” said Milligan.

Decker ignored this. “They were positively identified as Roy and Lucinda Mars?”

“Yes. There was no question about it. The bodies were badly burned, and despite the shotgun wounds to the head, enough of their teeth were left intact to ID them through their dental records. They were the missing couple.”

“Still doesn’t answer my question. Why burn the bodies after they were dead?”

They drove for a few more miles in silence.

Finally Bogart said, “Maybe the killer panicked. They do. He tried to get rid of the evidence, thinking that maybe the fire would cremate the bodies.”

“All it did was create a lot of smoke that someone noticed and called the fire department. If he had just left the bodies, they might not have been discovered for a long time.”

Milligan interjected, “Well, if their son didn’t kill them he would have found the bodies when he got home that morning. Or more likely the house would have been burned down.”

“There was no reliable time-of-death calculation?”

“With burned bodies outdoors you can have an entomologist look for insect evidence, flies laying eggs, that sort of thing. Even indoors you have that occur. But that sort of evidence wasn’t available. Flies naturally won’t lay eggs on a burning body. The most precise analysis for TOD on severely charred victims is an examination of the bones. Chemical and microscopic analysis. But then you’re talking microradiography and electron microscopy.”

Decker nodded. “But I doubt in a rural Texas county twenty years ago they were able to do any of that.”

“I doubt they have the equipment to do it today,” pointed out Bogart. “So the TOD was determined largely by the call to the fire department at ten minutes past midnight. The firemen showed up eleven minutes later. Five minutes after that they discovered the bodies.”

“So twenty-six past twelve?”

Mars stared from his hospital bed at Decker, who impassively stared back. Bogart was next to Decker and looking bewildered. Milligan had elected to wait in the car and make some phone calls.

Decker cleared his throat and said, “I told you before that nothing is too important to overlook. The room rate was twenty-five bucks. Why not just pay that in cash? Why pull a credit card?”

“Where’s my lawyer?” Mars demanded. “Where’s Mary?”

“I suppose she left,” replied Decker. “We can call her and wait until she gets here, but it would be faster if you just answered the questions.” He paused momentarily. “So why the credit card?”

“It was over twenty years ago. I don’t remember.”