'So,we have the right to chuck him off a scene?'

    'Absolutely,'Westbrook said. 'Just make sure Kevin doesn't do it when you're going seventyon 1-95.'

    Jessicasmiled. It hadn't taken long for Sergeant Dana Westbrook to get up to speed.'I'll make a note.'

    Westbrookstood. 'Keep me in the loop.'

    'Yougot it, boss.'

    Untilthey got an ID on the victim there wasn't too much they could do. The fasteryou got an ID, the faster you could get information such as where the victimlived, worked, went to school, played, and the faster you could begin to collectwitness statements. Once identification was made, a person was also run throughthe various databases, specifically the National Crime Information Center andits local version, the Philadelphia Crime Information Center.

    Thevictim was fingerprinted as soon as the body got to the morgue, but all youcould do before identification was canvass the area around the crime scene,process any forensic material, and hope for the best. If they couldn't ID thevictim, the best hope was that by the next day someone would have heard thenews about the body and would start making calls about their husband, brother,son.

    Afterfinishing her initial report, Jessica would head back to the scene. Peopleworking early shifts would be getting home soon and just might have somethingto tell her.

    Shemade a note to ask Kevin to reach out to a friend of his, a detective whoworked out of South Detectives. The more eyes and ears on a homicide,especially at this stage, the better. Divisional detectives knew their turf andtheir criminals better than anyone.

    Beforeshe could do that she sensed someone nearby. She turned. Dennis Stansfieldstood behind her. He was like a virus that she couldn't seem to shake.

    'Can Ihelp you with something, detective?' Jessica asked.

    Stansfieldpointed to the notepad on the desk. 'I didn't mean to look over your shoulder.'

    'Andyet?'

    'Well,lately I've heard some things about him.'

    'Him?'

    'Yeah.Detective Byrne.'

    Jessicaclosed the folder on her desk, closed her notebook. She spun her chair around,stood up. She was not going to talk to this guy while she was sitting down.'Like what sort of things?'

    Stansfieldglanced around the duty room, looked back, lowered his voice. 'Well, like maybehis heart's not in it anymore.'

    'Really?'

    'Yeah,and like maybe he's looking for the door. Like maybe he's not quite the cop heused to be.'

    Jessicanodded. 'Interesting.'

    'I'mjust saying, you know? This is what I've heard. And from more than one person.'

    'Well,Dennis,' Jessica said. 'Maybe you're right.'

    Stansfieldlooked surprised. 'I am?'

    'Yeah.Can I tell him you said this? I'm sure he'd like to hear it, seeing as it'sgoing around.'

    'Well,I'd really prefer you didn't,' Stansfield said. 'See, I was just saying that—'

    'Thenagain, why don't you tell him yourself?'

    'Whatdo you mean?'

    'He'sright behind you.'

    Stansfieldspun around to find Kevin Byrne, who loomed over him by about five inches,standing there. It looked for a moment as though Stansfield was going to extendhis hand in greeting. It looked for a moment as though Byrne was going to throwStansfield out a window. Both men then thought better of it.

    'Detective,'was all that Stansfield managed.

    Byrnestared at him until Stansfield got really interested in the time of day. Heglanced at his watch, then back at Jessica.

    'I'mgoing to follow up on the owner of the building,' Stansfield said. 'I'm mobile ifyou need me.'

    'Yeah,'Jessica said when Stansfield was out of earshot. 'That'll happen.' She turnedto Byrne. 'Done with the grand jury already?'

    Byrneshook his head. 'Postponed. They're hearing the Fontana case today.'

    'Did Drummondtell you when you're back on?'

    'Maybenext week.'

    'Sucks.'The longer it went on, the more likely that people were going to catch amnesia.

    Byrnepointed across the room, at the departing Stansfield. 'When did he go on daywork?'

    'Today,'Jessica said. 'The boss put him with me this morning. I caught a case.'

    Jessicafilled Byrne in on what they had found. They did not have crime-scenephotographs yet, but Jessica had taken a few still pictures on her cellphone.She made it a practice never to print off any crime- scene photographs that shetook with her own camera, even though there were no rules against it. It justmade it a little too likely that personal photographs would get mixed in withofficial photographs, and things like that were what defense attorneys livedfor. PhotoShop had changed everything.

    Byrnestared at the images for a full minute, scrolling through them one by one.

    'NoID yet?' he asked.

    'Notyet,' Jessica said. 'Body's still on scene.'

    Byrnehanded back the phone. 'Any witnesses?'

    'Nothing.I'm heading back there in a few minutes.'

    Byrnelooked across the room. David Albrecht sat at one of the desks, playing backfootage on his camera's viewfinder.

    'Who'sthe kid with the camera?'

    Jessicaexplained David Albrecht's presence.

    'Great,'Byrne said. 'Just what we need.'

    Byrnechecked the body chart, taking in the general details of the wounds to thevictim, the placement of the body. 'Want some company?'

    'I'lldrive,' Jessica said.

    'Letme get my stuff out of my car.'

    Inthe rear parking lot they stopped at Byrne's car. It was a Kia Sedona minivan.Jessica had never seen it before.

    'Whendid you get this?'

    'It'sa loaner from my cousin Patrick. Colleen is going to be moving soon and we'retrying to keep the costs down. I'm bringing some of her stuff to a storagelocker this week.'

    'Doyou like it?'

    'Ohyeah,' Byrne said. 'Kias are true babe magnets. Had a few college cheerleadersflash me the other day.'

    Byrneunlocked the passenger door, reached in, grabbed some things from the backseat. When he closed the door and turned around, Jessica did a double take.

    KevinByrne had a stylish leather messenger bag over his shoulder.

    'Ohmy God,' Jessica said.

    'What?'

    'Hangon.' Jessica took out her cellphone, opened it, pantomimed dialing a long phonenumber. A really long phone number. She held up a finger. 'Hi, is thisHell?'

    Byrneshook his head.

    'Yes,'Jessica continued. 'I was calling to get the current temperature. What's thatyou say? Five below? Snow squalls expected?'

    'Funnystuff,' Byrne said. 'Let me get a table so I can catch the whole act.'

    Jessicasmiled, closed her phone. She leaned against the car, crossed her arms. 'Ican't believe it. Kevin Byrne carrying a purse. I am so blogging aboutthis.'

    'It'sa man bag.'

    'Ah.'

    'Andit's a Tumi. Tumi makes good stuff.'

    'There'sno question about that,' Jessica said. 'I have a Tumi purse myself.'

    'Thisisn't a purse, okay? It's a—'

    'Manbag,' Jessica said.

    'And,just for the record, I never want to hear the words metro and sexualin the same sentence. Okay?'

    'Promise,'Jessica said. Her fingers were secretly crossed behind her back. 'So, what madeyou decide to do this?'

    Byrneleaned closer. 'It's just getting harder and harder to leave the house, youknow? You have to have your keys, your cellphone, your pager, your sunglasses,your regular glasses, your iPod—'

    'Wait.You have an iPod?'

    'Yes,I have an iPod. What's so odd about that?'

    'Well,for one thing, you still buy vinyl records. I just figured in a few years you'dmake the giant leap to audiocassettes. Maybe even CDs one day.'