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"Jutin was struggling with Peter Michaels involvement in the murders, and concerned that if he introduced it as part of the equation the investigation, desperate in wanting to hang the crimes on somebody, would swing in that direction taking all of the resources with it. He was also worried that his latest discovery, or hunch, that there was another body would get lost in the shuffle. He didn’t know where the body was – but he had a feeling it wasn’t too far away. He listened for the screams of people in Wrights who’d found someone nailed to a cross - but all he heard were the sounds of motors running and Havelt’s voice droning on. He watched Havelt’s lips move and thought about the mush that is the brain. It has got to be, without a doubt, the oddest three-pound pile of guts in the universe. It runs itself, poses questions, offers answers, freaks out, dreams and remembers, helps with breath and blood, is the cause of all of our advances and every single solitary inch of our woe. And when we die we take it with us – all that effort, all that energy – gone in a flash. Weird."
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