But perhaps the theory with the greatest credence is the one that no theory is needed in the first place—that Soman is long gone and that’s all that matters. When it was suggested to a HUPD officer that maybe Soman doesn’t want to be found, he scrunched up his face and remarked, “Well, we did find something in his room that seems to suggest that as well—” Another officer punched him in the arm and retorted, “We found nothing else in his room. We’ll find him. That’s our job.” Later, when the first officer was cornered and prodded for information, he handed us a plastic bag with a crinkled piece of paper in it. “This was underneath his bed. They don’t want anyone to see it. But I think it’s important. Just don’t say I gave it to you.”

When the small note, the size of a 4x6 index card, was unfolded, handwriting stood out against the white background. The writing, with its hybrid of cursive and italics, is unmistakably Soman’s. Written unhurriedly in bold, black script is a single cryptic line:

It’s my party and I’ll die if I want to.

www.somanintheknow.com