“Don’t you guys ever talk to each other?” Jules waved his clipboard. “I just went through this with the guard at the front door.” He glanced at the man’s badge.

“Phillips. I’m from the supe’s office. I’m supposed to do the yearly service check.”

“I’ve been out on a coffee break,” the guard said defensively.

Jules knew that. He hadn’t expected Phillips to be back this soon, but you always had to be ready to make adjustments. “I’m almost through here. Have you noticed any problems on your rounds? Puddles beside the air conditioners? Excess steam?” Phillips shook his head.

“Since you’re here, would you mind coming with me to that furnace room and holding my flashlight? I have to crawl in back of the units and it’s damn hard to see.” Phillips frowned. “If it doesn’t take too long. I have to get back to the front door and relieve Charley.”

“Like I said, I’m almost done.” Jules picked up his toolbox and started down the aisle. “It won’t take a minute.”

Phillips followed him. “If you’re sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Jules smiled at him over his shoulder. “I know my job.”

“Ready, Victor?” Eve murmured. “It’s almost time.”

“Did you say something, Eve?” Nathan asked from across the room.

“Hush. I don’t want to hear a word from you until I’m done.” The clay was soft, cool beneath her fingers. She touched it delicately, tentatively.

Smooth.

Don’t think.

Instinct.

She was moving quickly; her fingers were tingling.

Who are you, Victor? Tell me, help me.

Smooth. Mold. Fill in.

She had no idea how to shape the ears. Make them generic.

The mouth. God, the mouth was hard. She only knew the width…

Instinct. Close out what she didn’t know, and let her hands flow.

Smooth. Mold. Fill in.

She was going too fast.

Stop for a minute and study the eyes, the angle of the orbits, the bony ridge above…

Okay, go for it.

Smooth. Mold. Fill in.

Check that lip height… 12mm. That was right. Nose projection 18mm. It should be 19. Change it.

Smooth. Mold. Fill in.

Be aware of the measurements, but let instinct dominate now.

Tell me, Victor. Let me bring you home.

Her hands flew over the visage. Her fingertips seemed to have a life, a mind of their own.

Smooth.

Mold.

Fill in.

Galen stepped out of his car and strode over to Hughes, who was standing under a streetlight. “Anything?”

Hughes shook his head. “Everything’s quiet. The kid went into the condo with her grandmother at the usual time. A squad car cruised by five minutes ago. They must have put more plainclothesmen on the job. I saw one guy I didn’t recognize talking to the front-door guard.” He held up his hand as Galen opened his lips. “It’s okay, I watched him and he got into the squad car twenty minutes later. The cops knew him.”

“Inside?”

“I have a guy on the same floor as the kid, and he reports no activity. What have you been doing?”

“Scouting. There’s a telephone truck five blocks from here. What’s it doing here at this time of night? Have you checked it out?”

Hughes shook his head.

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t there today. I’ll get on it.”

“Now.”

“Why are you so edgy? It’s five blocks away.”

“It could be a surveillance van. Eve calls Jane regularly.”

“I told you we’d checked out the high-rise. The condo’s too high and there’s too much interference for the phones to be bugged.”

“Just check the truck, okay?”

“Whatever you say.” Hughes reached for his phone.

Galen stared up at the condo while Hughes was telling one of his men to check out the vehicle. Damn, he felt uneasy.

Hughes hung up. “He’s trying to get through to the telephone company.

Satisfied?”

“No. Something’s happening. He’s got to be around here. He knows he doesn’t have much time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.” He glanced at the cars parked along the street. There were no new vehicles, and all of these had already been checked out. “It just feels wrong.”

“If Hebert’s gone underground, he’s buried himself pretty deep,” Hughes said.

Galen stiffened. “What?”

“You said that Hebert must have gone underground, or we would have been able to—”

Underground.

“Shit!” Galen moved toward the canopied entrance of the condo. “Come on.” Hughes got out of the car and hurried after him. “Where are we going?”

“You’re going to distract the security guard and find out from him if anything unusual has happened today.” He opened the glass door. “And I’m going to see how far Hebert is willing to go to get that kid.”

Galen found a uniformed guard in the furnace room behind the massive units that heated the high-rise. His throat had been cut.

He found the plastic explosive and the timer that controlled it behind the furnace unit beside the dead man.

Twenty-two minutes.

Shit.

It wasn’t a simple timer, and was probably booby-trapped. No time to disarm it.

He turned off his telephone as he ran toward the elevator. A ringing phone could set off a bomb. He turned the phone back on as he reached the street.

It rang at once.

“Nothing much unusual,” Hughes said. “A building inspection. One of the guards got sick and had to go home. Want me to—”

“Forget it.” It would take more time for him to go get Jane himself than to delegate. “Get out of the building. Call your man on the twelfth floor to get Jane MacGuire and her grandmother out of there. Now. He has about twenty minutes.

Then call the bomb squad and get them here. I think it will be too late, but I could be wrong.”

“Right.” Hughes rang off.

Galen checked his watch.

Nineteen minutes.

Jane MacGuire was on the twelfth floor. Not much time.

And no time at all for the rest of the people who lived in the building. Galen wouldn’t get past the first few condos before the bomb went off.

Christ, what the hell could he do?

“It’s done.” Eve leaned back against the worktable and wiped her face. God, she was exhausted. The adrenaline was draining out of her, and she felt limp as a dishrag. “It’s the best I can do.”

“I thought you’d never get done. It’s almost three in the morning.” Nathan leaned forward, his body tense with eagerness. “May I look at it now?”

“Not yet. I have to put the glass eyes in the sockets.” She smiled faintly as she turned to the eye case on the worktable. “Galen would be glad of that. He has a thing about empty eye sockets.”

“Hurry!” Nathan moistened his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’m just…

anxious.”

“I know.” Eve opened the case and took out a pair of brown eyes and turned back to Victor. Only it might not be Victor now. He might soon have a real name. “It will only take a few minutes.”

It took less than that before she stepped back and turned to Nathan. “You can look now.”

Nathan jumped up from the chair and moved quickly across the room. He stopped, took a deep breath, and then moved around to stand beside Eve.

He stared at the features of the reconstruction.

Eve’s gaze searched his face. “Well, say something. Is it Bendy?”

“It’s him.” Nathan’s lips thinned. “It’s Harold Bently.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” His voice was uneven. “You did a good job. That’s him.” He turned away and moved quickly toward the staircase. “Excuse me. I’m so mad I want to choke someone. I can’t look at him. I was hoping—” Nathan flew up the stairs and almost ran into Joe coming down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” He brushed past him and was out the door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Joe asked as he came the rest of the way down the stairs. Then he saw Eve’s face and said, “Oh, the moment of truth?”

“It’s Bendy.” Eve rubbed the back of her aching neck. “You always have hope until you actually see the proof.”

Joe came to stand beside her, and looked at the face. “You evidently did a good job if he’s so certain.”