"In a week's time, citywide? Maybe thirty, maybe a hundred."

"That's submissions of evidence to the database, right?"

"Yes."

"And hits? You're probably lucky to get five from the linkage database."

"You're right, judge. Some weeks two, some none. Five would be a gift."

"So don't make a stink. Get Ramon Carido off the street for the time being and let's slow this down so I can look at the bigger picture."

"Give me two weeks, then, judge," Abramson said. "I want to consult with the other supervisors. We'd like to submit papers on this."

Abramson and I were both trying to figure out what this meant for him. McFarland was not a Solomonic judge-she rarely split the baby. She wasn't afraid to take a firm position, no matter how controversial, if she could ground it in the law. She was giving me a go at Carido this afternoon, but she might be doing Abramson a favor in the long run.

"We're back on the record. Miss Cooper, two weeks from today, ten a.m.?"

"Yes, your honor."

Mercer walked me down the aisle and out of the courtroom. "Where's she going on this? What do you think?"

"Call DCPI and get your press release out. I have no idea where she'll wind up, but at least we can get this psycho off the street now." The deputy commissioner of Public Information could issue a release with a description of the attacker, and police could begin to sweep the parks and homeless shelters for Ramon Carido. "And I'm going to have to find someone from the Appeals Bureau to help me out with a brief on this."

"Hey, Alex," Ron Abramson said, tugging at my elbow. "You free after work for a drink?"

"Now that I don't have to pack my bags to go to Rikers, I guess I've got time to kill. I just don't think I'm in the mood."

"Look, I had to do what I had to do. All my lawyers are unsettled about these databank rules, and I figured this was a good chance to get some guidelines. Got your attention, didn't I?"

"Another time, Ron."

Mercer pressed for the down elevator and Abramson headed upstairs.

Laura got up from her desk and followed us into my office. "Eric Ingels called you. Says it's urgent." She thrust the phone message with his number into my hand.

I dialed and he answered himself. "Alex, I've got a problem with Dr. Sengor."

I flopped onto my chair. "Like what?"

"Like he's not coming in. He won't surrender."

"That's just another factor for the judge to consider when I ask for bail." I was too tired and frustrated to worry about the extra day until his scheduled court appearance, pleased that the hospital was keeping him on a short leash by requiring him to check in twice daily.

"He wants to talk to you."

"Who does?"

"My client. Dr. Sengor."

"Sengor wants to make a statement?" I shrugged my shoulders and looked at Mercer, repeating Ingels's comments so Mercer could understand what was going on.

"Not exactly. He swears he didn't commit a crime. He wants to talk to you."

"You're going to let him?"

"I'd like to patch him in when he calls back. He's been phoning every fifteen minutes or so, waiting for you to come back from court."

"Is he home? We can just set it up from my end," I said.

"No, he tells me he's not. The apartment was hospital housing. He claims they don't want him living there during his suspension."

"Fine. I'll be at my desk. Have him call my secretary on the hour. She'll hook you in on a conference line."

I hung up and put Mercer to work. "Let's get TARU on this. How fast can they set up a triangulated phone call?"

The Technical Assistance Resource Unit was the NYPD's small crew of wizards who used state-of-the-art equipment to do everything from video surveillance to wiretaps and intercepts.

"Five minutes, with a bit of luck. I'll get that going if you give me Ingels's number. When Sengor dials in, you check caller ID and I'll run with that, too. And get someone from the DA's Squad down here to hook a recorder onto your phone. You'll want a tape of whatever he says."

I called the squad commander, whose office was directly above mine, and then stepped out of the way five minutes later so that Vito Taurino, a detective I had worked with often over the years, could attach a device to the telephone receiver that fed a minirecorder. As long as one party to a conversation consents for a call to be recorded, the law in New York allowed me to surreptitiously tape the incoming call.

I dated and timed the header of the recording, sent Laura down the hall so that Mercer could use her console to stay in touch with TARU, and settled in to wait for the phone to ring. While Sengor and I spoke, detectives would be trying to identify his location by reading signals from cell satellite towers. If he stayed on the phone for ninety seconds, they would know the very street corner on which he stood.

"They're ready for you," Mercer said. "You're good to go."

"Give me a heads-up when TARU tells you they've made him."

Laura buzzed me from down the hall to tell me that Sengor had called on my line, and that she had patched Eric Ingels into the call.

"Dr. Sengor wants to talk to you, Alex. Doctor? Can you hear me? Ms. Cooper's on the line.**

The connection was bad. The crackling noise of the static made it hard to hear Sengor when he said hello to me. There was no need to recite Miranda warnings. The doctor wasn't in custody and his attorney had requested the opportunity for him to talk.

"You're making a very big mistake, Ms. Cooper. I did not rape these women," he said, barking each word into the receiver for emphasis. "You have ruined my life, I want you to know that."

I wasn't the one slipping mickeys into the drinks of unsuspecting women and then having sex with them while they were unconscious, but that never stopped a perp from blaming me for his problems. "Doctor, is there-"

"I have lost my job, I've lost my home, I've lost my girlfriend, for what? What did I do? For what crime? You can't put my name in the newspaper just for your own career, for your own ambitions. It's my life you're ruining."

"Eric, if your client is calling just to harangue me about the case, there's absolutely no point to this conversation."

"Hold on, Alex, hold on. Selim? Can you hear me? Explain to Ms. Cooper what you told me, explain how the girls were doing drugs before you got home," Eric said. "He wants to tell you what really happened."

I looked at the second hand on my watch as Mercer stood in the doorway, holding the cell phone while he waited for results from the TARU detectives. I mouthed a question to him. "How much longer?"

"They're not getting a signal. Be patient."

"Miss Cooper? Are you listening to me? You know what would happen to my family in Turkey if this is public? Terrible disgrace. Disgrace to my mother, to my father-who is also a doctor. And what? Because of the word of these two silly girls? I'm asking you as a professional to drop this case. I've withdrawn from the hospital, no one was hurt, and if you don't prosecute, I'll be able to keep my license to practice medicine."

Sengor hit the right button. A license to an endless supply of drugs to experiment on his victims. It wasn't a gift I was prepared to put in his hands. He rambled on and on, while I looked to Mercer for word of any results. We were going on four minutes and TARU had come up blank.

"Talk to your lawyer, Dr. Sengor. There's no reason to go on with this conversation. You can explain whatever you'd like to the judge and jury."

The call was terminated after six minutes and I hung up the receiver. Mercer was still on the cell phone, tryingto get an explanation from the tech team.

"Did they have the right number?" I asked, checking the 212 area code and seven digits that I had taken down from caller ID against the ones on Mercer's pad. "How come this works on TV and in the movies, but when I need it, the system fails?"