The Cold Moon

makes decisions based on intuition and emotion. She drew this conclusion about the dealer because of his clear passion for his clocks and the fact he was only a moderately successful businessman (he’d rather sell what he loved than run a mass-market operation and make more profit).
    To get an introvert to tell the truth, she’d have to bond with him, make him feel comfortable. An attack like the one on Cobb would make Hallerstein freeze up instantly.
    Dance sighed, her shoulders slumping. “You were our last hope.” She sighed, glancing at Sellitto, who, bless him, gave a good portrayal of a disappointed cop, shaking his head with a grimace.
    “Hope?” Hallerstein asked.
    “The man who bought these clocks committed a very serious crime. They’re the only real leads we have.”
    The concern that blossomed in Hallerstein’s face seemed genuine but Kathryn Dance had met a lot of good actors. She put the paper back into her purse. “Those clocks were found next to his murder victims.”
    Eyes frozen for a moment. This is one stressed-out shopkeeper we’ve got ourselves here.
    “Murder?”
    “That’s right. Two people were killed last night. The clocks might’ve been left as messages of some kind. We’re not sure.” Dance frowned. “The whole thing is pretty confusing. If I were going to murder someone and leave a message I wouldn’t hide it thirty feet away from the victim. I’d leave it a lot closer and out in the open. So we just don’t know.”
    Dance watched his reaction carefully. To her calculated misstatement, Hallerstein gave the same response as would anyone unfamiliar with the situation, a shake of the head at the tragedy but no other reaction. Had he been the killer, he would most likely have given a recognition response—usually centering around the eyes and nose—that her words didn’t coincide with his knowledge of the facts. He would’ve thought: But the killer did leave it by the body; why would somebody move it? And that thought would have been accompanied by very specific gestures and body language.
    A good deceiver can minimize a recognition response so that most people aren’t aware of it but Dance’s radar was operating at full strength and she believed the dealer passed the test. She was convinced he hadn’t been at the crime scenes or knew the Watchmaker.
    She put her purse on the counter.
    Lon Sellitto moved his hand away from his hip, where it had been resting.
    But her job had just begun. They’d established that the dealer wasn’t the killer and didn’t know him, but he definitely had information.
    “Mr. Hallerstein, the people who were killed died in very unpleasant ways.”
    “Wait, they were on the news, right? A man was crushed? And then somebody was thrown into the river.”
    “Right.”
    “And . . . that clock was there?”
    Almost “my” clock. But not quite.
    Play the fish carefully, she told herself.
    She nodded. “We think he’s going to hurt somebody again. And like I said, you were our last hope. If we have to track down other dealers who might’ve sold the killer the clocks it could take weeks.”
    Hallerstein’s face clouded.
    Dismay is easily recognized in a person’s face but it can arise in response to many different emotions—sympathy, pain, disappointment, sorrow, embarrassment—and only kinesics can reveal the source if the subject doesn’t volunteer the information. Kathryn Dance now examined the man’s eyes, his fingers caressing the clock in front of him, his tongue touching the corner of his lips. Suddenly she understood: Hallerstein was displaying the flight-or-fight response.
    He was afraid—for his own safety.
    Got it.
    “Mr. Hallerstein, if you could remember anything to help us, we’d guarantee you were safe.”
    A glance at Sellitto, who nodded. “Oh, you bet. We’ll put an officer outside your shop if we need to.”
    The unhappy man toyed with a tiny screwdriver.
    Dance took the picture out of her purse again. “Could you just take another look? See if you can remember anything.”
    But he didn’t need to look. His posture caved in slightly, chest receding, head forward. Hallerstein sprinted into the acceptance response state. “I’m sorry. I lied.”
    Which you hardly ever heard. She’d given him the chance to claim that he’d looked at the picture too fast or was confused. But he didn’t care about that. Do not pass go—it was confession time, pure and simple.
    “I knew the clock right away. The