“Why didn’t you say so off the bat?”
Mike Lunde sighed. “I thought it would be enough if I did my civic duty and reported something I supposed would be relevant to the case.”
“So he’s a friend?”
“Not a friend. I…”
“Yes?”
“I like to get to know a bit about my customers. See what it is they want when they come here. What it is they’re really looking for. Even when they’re not entirely clear about it themselves.”
“And what is Tomás Gomez really looking for?”
Lunde moved his hand and started rubbing his neck. “It’s rather a long story, Detective Oz.” He gave the name its correct Norwegian pronunciation. “One that he told me in all confidence. And one which I doubt would bring you any closer to your goal.”
“Let me be the judge of that, Lunde.”
“Of course, but should I not make my own judgment too? I accept that one has a civic duty to provide the police with information that can help them catch dangerous criminals, but I have to weigh that against the fact that what Tomás Gomez told me abouthimself he told me on the understanding that it would remain between us.”
“To the best of my knowledge taxidermists are not bound by any oath of confidentiality, Mr. Lunde. And we have an innocent man fighting for his life in a hospital bed.” Bob saw no indication that Lunde saw through the untruth. “Have you any idea where Tomás Gomez might be?”
“I have his address in Jordan. That was how I knew it had to be the Tomás Gomez referred to in the newspaper. But I presume he isn’t there now.”
“No.”
“Then beyond that I haven’t a clue as to where he might be, alas. Or fortunately.”
“Fortunately?”
Mike Lunde sighed again, raised a glove to dust off the owl’s beak. “I’m in a dilemma here. I must confess I did consider not calling the police.”
“Why?”
“Because I like to think he’s a good man.”
“A good man doesn’t try to kill people.”
“That’s a valid objection.”
“And yet you did call us, Mr. Lunde. So that must mean that you understand Gomezhasto be arrested.”
“Oh indeed yes. The trouble is, one’s intellect and one’s feelings aren’t always in agreement with each other.”
“Well, we certainly can’t let our feelings decide.” Bob took out his notebook. “What can you tell us?”
“Hm. Are you so sure about that, Oz?”
Bob looked up. “That we can’t let our feelings decide?”
“Yes. Can you be sure it isn’t the feelings that decide, and that we afterward employ our intellect to rationalize the choice to the point that we believe it was actually the intellect that made the decision?”
“I’m pretty sure about that, yeah.”
“Yes, you do look pretty sure of yourself.” Lunde smiled. “The first time Tomás Gomez came here was three months ago. He wanted to have his cat stuffed.”
“It was…eh, dead?”
Lunde gave a short laugh. “Yes. It’s in the freezer in the basement if you want to look. Sickness, so natural causes.”
