There were no suspects until a day later when a third bomb went off in the car of a respected, but much in debt, religious documents dealer named Mark Hoffman. As police were questioning Hoffman, (who by chance survived the bombing), there was something suspicious. When forensics investigated, they found flaws in Hoffman's story. There was something wrong. Hoffman was friends with people in high positions. Nobody would want to mess with Hoffman, for the fear that his friends would come get them.

Police were stumped. Although they had a good mind to arrest hospital ridden Hoffman, why would he blow up himself and his car? Their last chance was witnesses. As forensics questioned an elderly man in an apartment that was looking out on the bomb site, they found out that the evidence pointed to Hoffman as the guilty party. Hoffman was already in debt, so this case didn't help his reputation. Mark Hoffman, a convicted killer, got the same sentence as an African- American nineteen year old male who robbed a store.

One of the settings of this book is Hoffman's basement. As a kid, Hoffman used a machine in this basement to counterfeit coins. Later on in Hoffman's life, he had a workshop in his basement where he made bombs. Hoffman was very introverted and never let anybody in this basement. Hoffman's wife, Dorie, being an obeying, male "worshipping" Mormon wife, never questioned Hoffman as to why she could not go down into their basement. "Mark never allowed her in his basement workroom- and she never asked why" ( 128).