"Really?" Galliani was momentarily thrown. "How do you intend to do that? We have gathered a lot of evidence that incriminates you."

"Look, I jumped the barracks curfew, okay? I admit that. But, shit, I didn't rape no girl. I went to a whorehouse to get laid. I paid for it, fair and square. Cost me a goddamn packet, too."

"You're saying you visited a brothel?"

"Yeah."

"What brothel? Where is it?"

Hal flinched. "I'm not sure. This taxi took me there. The driver knew it. It's only a few minutes' drive from the barracks."

Galliani waited in silence for a moment. "That's it?" he asked eventually. "That's your proof?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sure if you were to pursue this alibi you would soon establish its validity," Bralow said smoothly. "My client is trying to cooperate."

Galliani sat back and smiled at Hal. "Son, you've had three hours and full access to a smartass lawyer. This bullshit is the best you can come up with?"

"It's not bullshit," Hal said hotly. "I went to a brothel. It was a big smart house, they all were down that street; there was a little garden along the front with iron railings. I don't know the number, but I'll know it again when I see it."

"What time did you leave your barracks?" Galliani asked.

"Twelve minutes past eleven."

"And when did you return?"

"Twelve past two. That's when the sensor was inactive, see? Twelve minutes past every hour."

"If you don't know where this brothel is, how did you get back to your barracks?"

"The madam called a taxi for me. I got back to the barracks about quarter to two. I had to hang around and wait before I could actually get in."

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, man, I wasn't supposed to be there. I hung around in the alley; I guess there weren't even many people on the street that time of morning. But the taxi driver can vouch for me."

"Was it the same driver who took you to the brothel?"

"Yeah."

"I don't suppose you know his name, or even which taxi company this was?"

Hal shrugged awkwardly. "No. But I think he was using AS control when we left. You'll be able to trace him through the traffic regulator logs."

"We'll certainly check."

"And so will we," Bralow murmured. He met the detective's gaze levelly.

"So," Galliani said. "We've established you were out on the streets at the same time this alleged rape took place, and that no one can actually confirm exactly where you were."

"The taxi driver can, the madam can, Avril sure as shit can—" Hal was checking them off on his fingers.

"Avril?"

"The whore I spent half the night screwing. There were a couple of other whores I saw there, as well. Don't know their names, though."

"But you'll recognize them when you see them?"

"Yeah, no problem."

"So all we have to do is find this taxi, and the brothel, and you're in the clear?"

"Yeah." Hal smiled happily. "Yeah, you got it, man."

"So how do you explain your semen being found inside the victim's vagina?"

Hal's smile dried up. "I don't know. It's a sting. A frame-up. It can't be anything else."

"And the girl's story? That you attacked her in Sheridan Park? That you threatened to set off her collateral necklace if she didn't do what you wanted?"

"Hey, that's your bullshit, man. None of that crap happened. None of it. I wasn't in Sheridan Park. She's lying. She's a part of all this."

"All this? So it's a conspiracy, then?"

Hal glanced at Bralow.

"Zantiu-Braun personnel would be the obvious victims of any rogue criminal elements in Memu Bay," the lieutenant said. "And we both know there are some."

"You've been having a tough time from our hooligan element," Galliani said. "But there's no organized resistance group, is there?"

Captain Bryant cleared his throat. "No. There is no organized resistance group in Memu Bay."

Hal twisted around in his seat to stare at the captain. "You've gotta be jerking me off. You were at the fucking soccer match, for Christ's sake. You saw Graham Chapell get blown to shit by KillBoy's bastards. You saw that!"

"We're still investigating the soccer game incident," Bryant said to Galliani. "We're not yet sure what happened."

"Jesus fucking wept."

"So there may or may not be someone, or some group of people, capable of setting you up for rape," Galliani said.

"Damn betcha there is," Hal told him. "It's that bastard KillBoy you should be looking for. Not me."

"Which means the rape victim must be part of the conspiracy?"

"You bet. You call her in here and give her the third degree. She'll crack."

"Strange how this comes back to the oldest conflict the human race has."

"What do you mean?"

"One of you is lying."

"It's her, man, I swear it. She's jerking you around. She's saying everything KillBoy told her to."

Galliani paused, as if considering something. Then he called up a file from one of the desktop pearls. Its pane displayed a girl's face. Hal was very aware that the detective was watching him closely.

"For the record, Mr. Grabowski, have you ever seen her before?"

Hal frowned, not quite understanding what was going on. "That's Avril. How did you get her picture?"

"Avril?"

"Yeah. The whore at the brothel. You do know where it is. Why did you say you didn't?"

"Let us be quite clear about this. You're saying that girl is Avril, whom you met in a brothel last night?"

"Yeah. Have you known this all along?"

"Mr. Grabowski, did you at any time last night have sex with the person you call Avril?"

"What, that's not her real name?"

"Did you have sex with that girl?" Galliani's finger tapped impatiently on the pane.