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*****
"I've never done it," said the circus clown. "See, this is my real nose. I ran away back in junior high, got this job and these clothes. I started out an alter boy, and that retarded me some. I've been saving up and down for years to have the surgery done."
   --John Gorka, Carnival Knowledge
*****

   "You're not an anthropologist."
   "Not in the conventional sense. No."
   Blair was shaking a little with effort it took to stay coherent. He wasn't angry, but his determination to find this out was driving him pretty hard.
   "Did you plagiarize those articles?"
   "No. I wrote them."
   We were in the living room of the loft, supposedly meeting to find out what Jarod had uncovered so far ... but I don't think Jarod was too surprised when Blair started in about his past. To his credit, Jarod was taking it pretty well.
   "See," Blair said, "I don't get that, because ... I mean, I had no trouble believing that you had a doctorate."
   I don't know if Blair knew that he sounded hurt. Jarod was looking at Blair with a mixture of shame and misery, and I knew that at that moment he'd rather cut off his own arm than upset Blair again. I was familiar with the feeling. Snakes had poison, chameleons had camouflage, and Blair made people feel for him.
   "I have an ability to ... learn things quickly. The place where I grew up, they called me a Pretender. I can become anything, anyone I want to be."
   Blair went pale, understandably. That sounded a little too much like Lash for my taste. I made a note to keep a closer eye on this guy.
   Of course, Blair had taken a liking to Jarod, and he wasn't going to let any facts interfere with that.
   "Where did you grow up?" he asked.
   Jarod thought for awhile before answering.
   "You know I've read your dissertation," he said finally. Blair nodded.
   "Probably my master's thesis too, and everything I've published. Just in case I was the one who killed Mike."
   "I didn't think you had," Jarod said. He could sound pretty kind when he wanted to. "But the reason I brought it up is that I understand why you didn't use Jim's name."
   Blair managed his face pretty well, and I think I did too, but we both knew there was no point. It wasn't much of a secret.
   "Where did you grow up," Blair said again.
   "A place called the Centre. They stole me from my parents when I was about five years old and used my ability for their experiments. I escaped a few years ago. I've been trying to find my parents."
   The corner of Blair's mouth curved up.
   "And also you have this hobby."
   "I have a lot of hobbies."
   "Do you know who your parents are? Do you know their names?"
   Jarod shook his head.
   "I can't remember. Even if I did, they've probably been changed by now. I think they're hiding from the Centre."
   "Yeah, well, from the sounds of it, who wouldn't? Could you always do this Pretending thing?"
   Jarod considered that.
   "I don't remember. But there must have been something special about me, for the Centre to notice me."
   Blair's fingers were tapping nervously on his legs. I put a hand over his to still them.
   "How would they ... do you think they knew about you from the start?"
   Jarod was looking at my hand. He seemed to realize he was staring and looked at Blair's face instead.
   "I'm starting to think so." He smiled, but I wasn't buying it. "I'll find out what I need to know. Right now I want to know who brought in those Columbian artifacts."
   "Nominally, the entire department ... but actually, it was just two or three people. I'll find out, but it'll just be grad students. Why would any of them want to kill Mike?"
   "Find out who they are," Jarod said, "and I'll ask them."


***********************************

   "Sir, I'm already involved--"
   "Jim, I told you I was putting you on this case until I needed you for something else. I need you for something else, therefore you are done with this thing at the university. Unless there's something I should know?"
   "No."
   He didn't believe me, but he wasn't going to push it. Probably didn't want to know.
   "Fine. By the way, when is your partner planning on coming in to the station? Don't tell me he thinks he's too good for us now."
   "I know what Dr. Sandburg would say if he were here ..."
   "Let's just be grateful that he isn't."
   "He's pretty busy. He won't be in until the middle of next week." I shrugged. "He has a full time job, sir."
   Just for a second, I could've sworn that Simon looked a little depressed.
   "I know, I know. So do you. Get back to it."
   "Yes, sir."

*****
I don't understand you. How could I know the scope of your pain?
   --Peter Himmelman, Name
*****

   "Dr. Sandburg's office."
   "Can I speak to him?"
   "He's not here right now. Are you that cop friend of his?"
   [I'm his husband, you snot-nosed little...]
   "Yeah. Do you know where he is?"
   "I think he's with Dr. Burton. Hang on and I'll transfer you."
   Four clicks, some unprofessional language, and then I was talking to Blair.
   "Sorry, Chief," I told him. "You're on your own. Simon wants me to earn my pay around here."
   "All of a sudden?"
   "You're a funny guy, Sandburg. You going to be all right with this?"
   "Yeah. I got the names this morning. Jarod's talking with them right now. This thing he does, I guess he's incredibly empathic. He can just imagine he's somebody else and he understands them. What do you think that would be like?"
  
   "Confusing."
   "Yeah, you're probably right. But if I could understand people like that ..."
   "Is he planning on asking these people if they killed your friend?"
   "Uh ... not exactly. He's just going to talk to them about the accident, the way he did with me. He gets into their skin and then he knows what they're thinking. You've got some competition in the human lie detector business."
   "I like my methods better. So he's done this thing with you?"
   "I think he does it with everybody, a little. He probably can't help it."
   "Chief, are you sure this guy is stable?"
   "Compared to who?"
   I didn't answer that. Blair sighed.
   "I love you, Jim."
   I looked around the bullpen. Nobody in sight.
   "Love you too, Chief. I'll talk to you later."

*****
Your work is valuable only when it's needed. And you're only valuable when your particular skill is scarce.
   --David Gerrold, A Matter For Men
*****

   "It was Derek Hughes. And this isn't the only thing he'd hiding. I've never had pineapple on pizza before."
   The guy did 180s faster than anyone I'd ever seen.
   "Sandburg likes it. What do you know about this guy?"
   I threw the question at both of them. Blair caught it.
   "He's working on a PhD. I'm not sure what his topic is. I know he brings in a lot of South American artifacts, so that probably has something to do with it. I always thought if you were more interested in things than people, you should be in archeology ... am I rambling?"
   Jarod smiled. He was playing with the pizza menu, tearing it into squares and making animals. It seemed a little obsessive.
   "You know him personally?" I asked.
   "Just to say hi to. I know he has money. He has a four by four that's only a year old, and one of those new G3 laptops ..."
   That was the third time I'd heard Blair mention that particular computer. Considering that he did police work on his computer, getting him a new laptop would make a decent compensation for all that unpaid work. It wouldn't be insanely extravagant. Blair did not have me wrapped around his finger.
   "Where does he get his money?" Jarod asked.
   "I figured his family, but maybe not. That's a good question. I gotta tell you, though, there's not a whole lot of graft in the Anthropology Department. There's no profit in it. We're not exactly first in line for corporate money."
   There was no way Blair was going to finish that piece of pizza. I slid it off his plate and chewed on it while I thought.
   "What about the artifacts?"
   Blair looked at me, then grabbed my beer and drained it.
   "They could be worth something," he said once he'd finished. "Maybe. But that kind of thing would be pretty hard to sell." He shrugged. "I'll look into it."
   Jarod was making a paper pineapple. I tapped the coffee table to get his attention.
   "How sure are you that you've got the right guy?"
   Jarod met my eyes. I could see where someone might not want this guy on their trail.
   "I'm sure."
   "Then be careful. Neither of you gets this, but you are not cops."
   "I can be," Jarod said. Suddenly I understood what had my favourite anthropologist's back up.
   "You aren't," I said. "If you get enough for an arrest to be made, you call me."
   They said they would. I believed Blair.
   Jarod bowed out pretty fast after that. I wanted to follow him, but I didn't think Blair would like it.
   Blair had ways of making me sorry when I did things he didn't like.

*****
Doctor, I have a problem with priapism ...
   --Spenser, Taming a Sea Horse
*****

   I left them to it for a few days. I was working late, Blair was working late, we barely saw each other, and the last thing I wanted to do when we did meet up was talking about Columbian artifacts.
   After four days, Blair brought it up. He picked a typically bad time.
   "Mike working with Derek Hughes all last year," he said, "but this was the only time he unpacked a shipment. Security says Derek usually stays late and unpacks shipments himself."
   "Blair, shut up."
   "Mike told some friends that he thought Derek was up to something, but he didn't get specific."
   "Sandburg, I'm warning you ..."
   "Derek's ex-girlfriend ... ah ... you can do that again if you want. Where was I?"
   "I don't care. Shut up."
   "Oh, right. The girlfriend. She says Derek had some strange friends. Older guys. She says they made her nervous. What are you doing?"
   "I'm not doing anything."
   "That's my point."
   "I'm waiting until I have your full attention. What else did you find out?"
   "That's about it -- but Derek has another shipment coming in on Monday. We're going to put cameras in the room and see if we get anything."
   "And then you bring whatever you have to me."
   "Yeah. Jim?"
   "What?"
   "You have my full attention."
   "I doubt it," I told him, "but I'll take what I can get."

*****
If Hitler had coke, there'd be Jews in the bathroom going, "I know you didn't do it. I like your mustache. Fucking Himmler."
   --Denis Leary, No Cure For Cancer
*****

   "I don't know much about anthropology," I commented as I watched the videotape, "but unless he's studying the history of cocaine in Columbian tribal societies, somebody put something extra in that crate."
   "Actually, that particular plant ..." Blair cut himself off. "Okay. It's pretty obvious what's going on."
   We were sitting in the conference room at the station, drinking terrible coffee with our feet propped up on the table.
   "We grabbed everything else that was in the crate," he went on. "There are probably traces of cocaine on at least some of it. Is that enough?"
   "To arrest him? Yeah. Where's your little friend?"
   "He had an appointment with a student. Are you going to do this right away?"
   "I don't know. I'd like to catch him with the cocaine..."
   "Jarod saw an older guy in a suit leave Derek's office this morning, so I'm guessing it's too late."
   "Yeah. I don't know. If this has waited six months, it can probably wait a little longer. Are you sure this guy isn't on to you?"
   "Positive."
   I looked him over to make sure he wasn't lying. He seemed to think he was telling the truth.
   "Okay. I'll see you around two."
   "I'll tell Jarod."

*****
All that that implies are lies. Surprise surprise.
   --Michael Penn, All That Implies
*****

   "We've got a problem."
   "Sandburg, that's a bad way to start a conversation. Where are you?"
   "Derek Hughes' office."
   I wasted a good hard stare on the wall across from my desk.
   "Can you guess what look I'm giving you right now?" I asked.
   "Yeah, but this isn't my fault. I went to Jarod's office and he wasn't there, so I figured he might have just gone looking for a vending machine, but maybe he was out causing trouble instead, you know?"
   "Oh, I know."
   "I thought the best way to find out was to see if Derek was in his office, which is isn't, but you will not believe what I found."
   "Deep breaths, Sandburg. Slow down."
   "I don't think we have that kind of time. I have a note here that Derek must've left on his desk. I'm thinking he left in some kind of ass-busting rush, because this is not the sort of note you would leave lying around."
   "What does it say?"
   "It says, `Meet me in the storage room to find out what I know'."
   "The storage room?"
   "That's where shipments go before they're opened. But you should *see* this note."
   "Why?"
   "It was open when I found it, but it had a lot of weird creases, so I folded it. It folds up into a snake."
   "I'm going to kill him."
   At the time, I meant it.
   "Jim ..."
   "You call security and send them to the storage room. Do not go down there yourself. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
   "No."
   "Excuse me?"
   "No, I'm not calling security. I don't want to get Jarod in trouble."
   "Jarod is getting himself in trouble."
   "If I call security, when you get here, you're going to have to arrest him. You want to explain that to Simon?"
   After telling Simon that nothing important was happening at Rainier after all, I wasn't thrilled by the idea.
   "Okay, don't call them. Go to your office and wait for me."
   "Right."
   "Blair."
   "Yes?"
   "Do not go to the storage room."
   "I heard you, Jim."
   He hung up. I grabbed my coat and left.

*****
I can be cruel ... I don't know why. Why can't my balloon stay up in a perfectly windy sky?
   --Tori Amos, Cruel
*****

   I didn't bother going to Blair's office. I knew he wouldn't be there. Blair ignored me frequently enough that, on those rare occasions when he did listen, I found myself surprised that he understood English after all.
   When I got to the storage room, the door was shut. There were three heartbeats inside, one of which was Blair's ... and a fourth, faint thumping that didn't sound human.
   "Careful," Jarod was saying. "You don't want to upset him."
   I could be cold at times, but I never projected that kind of menace. I had an ugly suspicion that Jarod was enjoying himself, and I didn't even want to know what he was doing.
   "Get this thing off me!"
   Unless I missed my guess, that would be Derek Hughes.
   "I can understand you being afraid of snakes," Jarod said, "after what happened to Michael Bradley."
   Oh, god ... the son of a bitch really had put a rattlesnake in someone's desk drawer, more or less.
   "Of course," Jarod went on, "you weren't too afraid to put a snake in one of those crates for Mike."
   "You're crazy!"
   "Jarod ..." Blair spoke very quietly. Jarod ignored him.
   "He found out about your import business, didn't he? Did you try to buy him off before you killed him?"
   "I didn't ..."
   "Careful. You don't want to raise your voice."
   "Jarod, I really..."
   Jarod didn't know Blair the way I did. He had no idea how much trouble he was in.
   "Snake venom," Jarod said, "works in a number of ways. It can cause paralysis, respiratory failure, massive internal bleeding ... it's not a pleasant way to die."
   "Okay," Blair said. "That's it. Let me get that for you."
   "Blair, DON'T."
   I heard Blair move, I heard Jarod move to stop him, and I heard Derek Hughes start to cry. I decided it was time to open that door.
   Derek Hughes, who needed a change of underwear, was still crying. Jarod was looking at Blair with a kind of puzzled frustration, and Blair was holding a snake in his hands.
   "It's not a coral snake," he was saying to Derek. "It's a milk snake. The coloured bands are in a different order, but otherwise they look alike. These snakes aren't poisonous ... they get by on looking like a poisonous snake. Kind of like the Viceroy butterfly. They're imitators."
   "Blair, he was going to confess!" Jarod said. I almost thought he was going to start crying himself.
   "Yeah, that wouldn't have been coerced at all. Confessions made while you have what you think is a poisonous snake in your lap are way admissible in court. Where did you get this thing?"
   "Life sciences," Jarod said, apparently cowed.
   Blair was starting to calm down. His eyes were sad.
   "Jarod, you promised you wouldn't do this."
   "I know," Jarod said. I had to turn up my hearing to catch it. "I know I did. I'm sorry."
   On that note, he left. I arrested Derek Hughes, for whatever that was worth. Blair returned the snake. Derek wanted to press charges against Jarod, and I hoped the dumb bastard had had the sense to leave town.
   I went by his hotel room to find out.

*****
No amount of genius can overcome a preoccupation with detail.
   --Levy's 8th Law of the Disillusionment of the True Liberal
*****

   Anything I was going to say to Jarod left my head when he opened the door. Behind him, on the desk and the nightstands and every available surface, there was a zoo of origami.
   While I stared, he spoke.
   "Come in."
   He shut the door behind up as I picked up a pair of giraffes. There must have been hundreds of animals in that room.
   "Do you know the story of Noah's Ark?"
   I looked at him. He sounded as if he really thought I might not.
   "Yeah. Why?"
   "So you know how Noah rescued a pair of every kind of animal, and when the flood waters went down, those animals repopulated the earth. But the thing about that story which bothers me is, what happened to the animals Noah couldn't find two of?"
   It wasn't a problem that I didn't know what to say, because he wasn't finished yet.
   "I don't know why I did what I did. I have this pattern that I follow whenever I go to a new place, and it must mean more to me than I thought it did, because I couldn't break out of it."
   I recognized the look in his eyes. It was the way I'd looked just before I met Blair. This was a guy who was seriously afraid that he was going under.
   "You can never do merely one thing," I said. He cocked his head.
   "What?"
   "Something Blair says. Some biologist said it first. He was talking about how complicated everything gets when you mess with something ... complex. You change a person, give them a gift, they're going to have problems, too."
   "I used to think it was just that I was living at the Centre. I don't know anymore. I don't think I understand myself very well."
   I nodded.
   "Sometimes I think there's someone else living in my head. And Blair is on better terms with him than I am."
   "It helps that you have him."
   "Keeps me out of the loonie bin. Although sometimes I think I jumped out of one asylum and into another."
   Jarod smiled.
   "It's funny who you fall in love with, isn't it?"
   "Nothing you can do about it," I told him. He laughed.
   Then he picked up a piece of paper from the bed. It had two pictures on it, a coral snake and a milk snake. I had to admit, the difference was subtle.
   "I could be anything," he said, staring at the picture. "I could make a pair with anyone in the world. But I'd be an impostor."
   That settled it -- I absolutely didn't know what to say to this guy.
   "Leave town, Jarod. I'll have to arrest you if you're still here tomorrow."
   He was still looking at the picture. Obviously I was going to have to let myself out.
   "Jim." He stopped me just as I reached the door.
   "Yeah?"
   He was standing right behind me with a thick envelope in his hands.
   "A very attractive brunette will come looking for me. Most likely, she'll speak to Blair. Could you have him give this to her?"
   I took the envelope.
   "Is this going to get him in trouble?"
   "No." Jarod smiled. "He'll probably enjoy it. Tell him to give her my love."
   I turned the package over. It smelled of ink, paper, a little bit of glue. Nothing dangerous.
   "All right."
   He offered a hand.
   "Thank you."
   What the hell ... us freaks had to stick together. I shook it.
   "You're welcome."

*****
I believe this is heaven to no one else but me, and I'll defend it long as I can...
   --Sarah McLachlan, Elsewhere
*****

   "Jarod's friend came by today."
   Blair was curled up at one end of the couch. His hair was down, and he was wearing a dark blue shirt that really brought out the blue in his eyes. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear about his meeting with a very attractive brunette.
   "Was she everything you expected?"
   "Oh, yeah ... but if Jarod is really set on that one, I don't envy him. She's trouble."
   I sat down on the arm of the couch.
   "I thought that was your type."
   "Not this much trouble. Not gun-carrying trouble." He grinned. "I mean, except for you."
   "Nice save, Chief. What was in the package?"
   "A red notebook. I didn't see what was in it. And two origami figures."
   I rolled my eyes.
   "What a surprise."
   "Yeah. They were beautiful, though. He must have worked on them a long time. There was a rose, really impressive, you know? But she didn't care about that one. She left it on my desk."
   "What was the other one?"
   "A rabbit. It's weird ... she's all `nature red in tooth and claw', right? I mean, she's a venomous animal. But when she saw that rabbit, I thought for a second she was going to cry. She took it with her."
   Blair had his legs tucked up in front of him. I moved closer and wrapped my arms around them.
   "I found out what was going on with the washing machine," he said. "Mrs. Adams in 207 had her niece staying with her, and she was using her own detergent. If you run it once with nothing inside before putting clothes through, I figure it should be okay. What are you smiling about?"
   "Nothing."
   It really was an amazing world, if even a complete freak of nature like me could find someplace he actually belonged. I gave Blair a kiss.
   "Does Jarod stay in touch with you?" I asked when we separated. "Send you e-mail?"
   He didn't have to answer. The look on his face was enough.
   "Why?" he said nervously.
   "Tell him, about that lady of his ..."
   "Yeah?"
   "I wish him luck."