payments.”

“Did we run his prints against the crime-scene unknowns?” I asked.

Barrello nodded. “No matches.”

I shook my head. “Without prints, we have nothing. I doubt any judge will grant a warrant to search Domingos’s house, let alone procure hair samples and bite impressions. Even if Domingos is our killer, he’s going to walk.”

“Looks that way,” Barrello agreed glumly.

“At least there’s one bright spot,” I noted.

“What?”

“The way Snead has screwed things up, be thankful we’ve probably got the wrong guy.”

Upon exiting the auditorium, I found Lauren Van Owen waiting for me outside. “Good morning, Detective,” she said.

“Van Owen,” I replied curtly. “I’m getting a real bad case of deja vu here. If you’ll excuse me-”

“You don’t seem too enthusiastic about the arrest.”

“Nothing gets by you, does it?”

“Nope. So what’s up?”

“Not a thing. My face always gets like this when I find myself in a roomful of reporters,” I answered, attempting to push past.

Lauren moved to block me. “C’mon, Kane. Give me thirty seconds. I smelled something fishy in there. No name, no confession, vague statements concerning physical evidence-”

“I can’t talk to you, Van Owen. You got your story at the press conference, just like everybody else.”

“I’m not buying it. And I know you well enough to tell you’re not buying it, either. What’s going on? The mayor demanded action, so the unit hauled in the first suspect they found?”

“No comment.”

Lauren frowned. “Domingos isn’t the guy, is he?” she said, studying my reaction.

“No comment,” I repeated, again starting for the security checkpoint at the rear of the lobby.

“Give me something off the record,” Lauren begged, tagging along behind. “Domingos didn’t do it, did he?”

“Off the record?” I said, still irritated by Snead’s ill advised press conference. “Let’s just say I consider the arrest premature.”

“That’s what I thought. Thanks, Kane.”

I scowled, wishing I had kept my mouth shut. “Van Owen? In the future, I’d appreciate seeing a lot less of you.”

Lauren smiled. “Anything you say, Detective. I’ll go on a diet.”

22

T hirty-five miles south, Victor Carns stared at the television screen in his office, watching the thin-faced LAPD lieutenant behind the podium. “That’s correct,” the man said, responding to a question from a reporter in the second row. “Certain forensic evidence, the nature of which is currently being withheld, led to the arrest of the man we now have in custody. At present, however, the task force still considers the case to be ongoing,” he cautioned, his tone saying otherwise.

The coverage ended minutes later. Carns turned off the set. But instead of returning to work, he sat staring at the blank screen, his lips compressed in a thin bloodless line, his eyes gleaming like gunsights.

23

My phone rang late that night. Rolling over in bed, I fumbled in the darkness, finally finding the receiver. “Kane,” I said.

“Sorry, Dan,” said Catheryn. “Did I wake you?”

Immediately alert, I glanced at the clock beside the bed: 1:45 AM. “Not really. What’s up?”

“I didn’t mean to call so late, but I just saw the news on TV. You caught the killer. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, well…”

“I mean it. I’m happy for you. The other reason I’m calling… Dan, we arrived in Venice yesterday. We’re staying at the Hotel Luna. It’s right on the water. I know most of Venice is on the water, but this is special,” Catheryn went on, her voice colored with excitement. “You can hop into a gondola off the front steps. The floors and walls of the hotel are all marble, and the lobbies and dining rooms are filled with the most gorgeous antiques you’ve ever seen. And the Piazza San Marco is right around the corner. Arthur and I took a long walk when we arrived. You wouldn’t believe it here. There are outdoor cafes, art shops with absolutely amazing crystal sculptures and glassware, and marvelous twisted little streets where you can get lost and find yourself in the most wonderful places. Oh, Dan, I wish you were here.”

“I do, too.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do. But I can’t leave at the moment.”

“Why not, now that your investigation is over? I spoke with my mother. She said she would still love to stay with the kids while you’re gone. Please?”

“The case isn’t closed.”

“But the news report said-”

“The news report was mistaken. Listen, Kate, the mayor’s been pressuring the department, and the brass evidently felt the need to show some progress. It isn’t going to pan out.”

“I take it that’s your own personal assessment.”

“So?”

“So maybe you’d rather not have your investigation be over.”

“That’s bull, Kate, and you know it.”

“I don’t know anything of the kind. What I do know is that, as usual, you seem to prefer work to spending time with me.”

“I thought we had put that subject to bed, so to speak, before you left.”

“That’s so typical of you. One evening together and you think everything’s fine. Things aren’t fine, Dan. One night can’t straighten out problems we’ve had brewing for years. You promised to take some time off, remember? This trip was supposed to be a new beginning for us.”

“Sugar, I know you’re disappointed, but I can’t leave right now.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Damn it, Kate-”

“Let me ask you something. Is it conceivable that the task force could get along without you for just a little while?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“For me it is. I’ll be here for a week. You have the number of the hotel. Call if you change your mind.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“I don’t care. It’s how I feel.”

“Fine,” I said. “You know, maybe these long distance calls aren’t such a hot idea.”

“Maybe not. Good-bye, Dan.”

24

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