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Agent Beale leans forward over his folded hands. His eyes are as cold and blue as ice chips, but there’s a faint smile on his mouth. Possibly of admiration.

“Yes,” Holly says. She knows what she must say next, thanks to Pete. “I acted in self-defense, being in fear for my life.” Thinking, I also hated that crazy piece of poop.

“So stipulated,” DA Tantleff says.

“Do you have the other earring?” Izzy asks.

“I do. In the top drawer of my desk at the office. I could show you a picture of it, only the Harrises took my phone after they tased me. But Penny has one, I emailed it to her. Has anyone talked to her yet?”

Barbara says, “I did. I called her.”

Tantleff whips around to look at the screen at the head of the conference table. No indulgent smile now. “You were not authorized to do that, Ms. Robinson.”

“Probably not, but I did it anyway,” Barbara says. Holly feels like applauding. “She was so worried about Holly. I told her she was all right. I didn’t tell her anything else.”

“What about the refrigerator?” Holly asks. “Were there…” She trails off, either not sure how to finish or not willing to.

“There were many cuts of meat, both in their fridge and in the freezer,” Izzy says. “There’s no doubt they’re human. There are still patches of skin on some of them.”

“Oh my God.” That’s Jerome, who’s sitting with Barbara in his writing room. “Oh my fucking God, really?”

“Really,” Izzy says. “They’re being DNA tested as we speak, this went right to the head of the line. There were also seven tall dessert-type glasses which the county coroner says probably contain human brain tissue as well as dura mater and bits of tendon.” She pauses. “Plus what he believes to be whipped cream.”

Silence. That’s right, give them time to digest it, Holly thinks, and clamps a hand to her mask to keep from bursting into gales of horrified laughter.

“Are you all right, Ms. Gibney?” Izzy’s partner asks.

“Fine.”

Izzy continues. “We also found meat sticks—you know, like Slim Jims or Jack Link’s—which may or may not be human, and a large Tupperware container of small meatballs. Any or all of these items may once have been a part of Bonnie Rae Dahl. The DNA will tell us. The Harrises also had a small auxiliary freezer in their pantry. There’s a lot of meat in there, too. Most of it looks like ordinary steaks, chops, bacon, and chicken. At the very bottom, however…” On her iPad she shows them the picture of a frozen roast. “We don’t know what this is for sure, or where it came from, but it’s sure not a leg of lamb.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tantleff says, “and I have no one to prosecute.” He shoots an almost accusatory look at Holly. “You killed them both.”

From the conference room TV screen, Pete Huntley speaks up. To Holly he looks better, but he also looks like he’s lost a fair amount of weight. Maybe thirty pounds. Holly thinks it would be good for him if he keeps it off, but she guesses he won’t, human nature being what it is. “What’s wrong with you, Tant? They were cannibals! They probably wouldn’t have had time to eat her, but they sure as fuck would have killed her.”

“I didn’t mean—”

Izzy’s phone rings and this time Tantleff’s accusing glance is directed at her. “I thought we agreed all phones would be silenced while we—”

“I’m sorry, but I really have to take this. It’s Dana Aaronson with the forensics team. I asked him to call if they found anything particularly… Hello? Dana? What have you got?”

She listens, looking vaguely sick. The way Holly herself felt in the middle of the night, when she finally had to ring her call button, even though she knew how busy the nursing staff was. The nurse who came soothed her through the worst of the panic attack, then gave her a Valium from her own private stash.

Izzy ends the call. “Dana’s team has found over a dozen unmarked jars in the Harris bathroom. He thinks…” She clears her throat. “There’s really no way to say this except to say it. He thinks they may have been using human fat as a kind of lotion. Perhaps hoping to soothe their various aches and pains.”

“They thought it worked,” Holly says. And for all I know, maybe it did. At least for awhile. Human nature being what it is.

“Tell us everything, Holly,” Izzy says. “Start to finish.”

Holly does, starting with Penny’s first call. It takes over an hour. She only has one case of the shakes—when talking about how, as Emily was trying to put a bullet in her, she felt like a china figurine. She has to stop then to get control of herself. Izzy’s partner, Washburn, asks her if she wants a break. Holly says no, she wants to finish, and she does.

“I knew the gun was empty after five, Bill told me I mustn’t ever load the chamber under the hammer. She put the muzzle in the middle of my forehead. I let her because I wanted to see the expression on her face when she pulled the trigger and nothing happened. Her surprise was quite gratifying. Once I saw it, I reached through the bars, grabbed her head, and broke her fracking neck.”

It’s Pete who breaks the silence, with one word. “Good.”

Tantleff clears his throat. “According to you, there were at least four victims. Five, if you count Ortega.”

“Castro,” Barbara says, sounding indignant. “Jorge Castro. I found Freddy Martin’s Facebook page. He was Castro’s partner, and he was convinced—”