"You accept reality. You're trying to change it but you're not lying to yourself. It's a challenge, it's tough, but it doesn't anger you."

"I think you're wrong."

"Ah, you just blinked twice. Kinesic stress response. You don't believe what you're saying."

"You're a tough woman to argue with." He drained the glass.

"Ah, Lincoln, I've got your baseline down. You can't fool me. But don't worry. Your secret's safe."

The front door opened. Amelia Sachs walked into the room. She tossed off her jacket and the women greeted each other. It was obvious from her posture and her eyes that something was troubling her. She went to the front window and looked out, then pulled the shade down.

"What's the matter?" Rhyme asked.

"I just got a call from a neighbor. She said that somebody was at my building today, asking about me. He gave the name Joey Treffano. I used to work with Joey in Patrol. He wanted to know what I was up to, asked a lot of questions, looked over the building. My neighbor thought it seemed funny and gave me a call."

"And you think somebody was pretending to be Joey? It wasn't him?"

"Positive. He left the force last year and moved to Montana."

"Maybe he came back to visit, wanted to look you up."

"If he did, it was his ghost. He was killed in a motorcycle accident last spring… And both Ron and I've been tailed. And earlier today somebody went through my purse. It was in my car, locked up. They broke in."

"Where?"

"At the scene on Spring Street, near the florist's shop."

It was then that something in the back of Kathryn Dance's mind began to nag. She finally seized the memory. "There's one thing I ought to say… Might be nothing but it's worth mentioning."

The hour was late but Rhyme had called everyone together. Sellitto, Cooper, Pulaski and Baker.

Amelia Sachs was now looking them over.

She said, "We have a problem I want you to know about. Somebody's been tailing me and Ron. And Kathryn just told me that she thought she'd seen someone too."

The kinesics expert nodded.

Sachs then glanced at Pulaski. "You told me you thought you'd seen that Mercedes. Have you seen it again?"

"Nope. Not since this afternoon."

"How about you, Mel? Anything unusual?"

"I don't think so." The slim man pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "But I never pay attention. Lab techs aren't used to being tailed."

Sellitto said he thought he might've seen someone but wasn't sure.

"When you were in Brooklyn today, Dennis," Sachs asked Baker, "you get the feeling that somebody was watching you?"

He paused. "Me? I wasn't in Brooklyn."

She frowned. "But…you weren't?"

Baker shook his head. "No."

Sachs turned to Dance, who'd been studying Baker. The California agent nodded.

Sachs's hand strayed to her Glock and she turned toward Baker. "Dennis, keep your hands where we can see them."

His eyes went wide. "What?"

"We need to have a little talk."

None of the others in the room-who'd been briefed beforehand-gave any reaction, though Pulaski kept his hand near his own piece. Lon Sellitto stepped behind Baker.

"Hey, hey, hey," the man said, frowning and looking over his shoulder at the heavyset detective. "What is this?"

Rhyme said, "We want to ask you a few questions, Dennis."

What Kathryn Dance had felt worth mentioning was something very subtle and it wasn't that somebody'd been following her; Sachs had simply said that to keep Dennis Baker at ease. Dance recalled that earlier, when Baker had mentioned that he'd been at the scene in front of the florist's workshop, she'd observed him crossing his legs, avoiding eye contact and sitting in a position that suggested possible deception. His exact comment at that moment was that he'd just left the scene and couldn't recall if Spring Street had been reopened or not. Since he'd have no reason to lie about where he was, she didn't think anything of it at the time.

But when Sachs mentioned that somebody had broken into her car at the scene-where Baker had been-she remembered the lieutenant's possibly deceptive behavior. Sachs had called Nancy Simpson, who'd been at the scene, and asked her what time Baker had left.

"Right after you, Detective," the officer had said.

But Baker had said he'd stayed for almost an hour.

Simpson added that she believed Baker had gone to Brooklyn. Sachs had asked him about being in the borough now to see if Dance could pick up signs of possible deception.

"You broke into my car and went through my purse," she said. Her voice was harsh. "And you asked a neighbor about me-pretending to be a cop I'd worked with."

Would he deny it? This could blow up in their faces if Dance and Sachs were wrong.

But Baker looked down at the floor. "Look, this's all a misunderstanding."

"You talked to my neighbor?" she asked angrily.

"Yes."

She eased closer to him. They were about the same height but Sachs, in her anger, seemed to tower over him. "You drive a black Mercedes?"

He frowned. "On a cop's salary?" This answer seemed genuine.

Rhyme glanced at Cooper, who went to the DMV database. The tech shook his head. "Not his wheels."

Well, they got one wrong. But Baker'd clearly been nabbed at something.

"So, what's the story?" Rhyme asked.

Baker looked at Sachs. "Amelia, I really wanted you on the case. You and Lincoln together, you're an A team. And frankly, you guys get good press. And I wanted to be associated with you. But after I convinced the top floor to bring you on board, I heard there was a problem."

"What?" she asked firmly.

"In my briefcase, there's a sheet of paper." He nodded to Pulaski, who was standing beside the battered attaché case. "It's folded up. In the top right-hand side."

The rookie opened the case and found it.

"It's an email," Baker continued.

Sachs took it from Pulaski. She read it once, frowning. She was motionless for a moment. Then she stepped closer to Rhyme and set it on the wide arm of his wheelchair. He read the brief, confidential note. It was from a senior inspector at Police Plaza. It said that a few years earlier Sachs had been involved with an NYPD detective, Nicholas Carelli, who'd been convicted of various charges, including hijackings, bribes and assault.

Sachs had not been implicated in the incidents but Carelli had been released not long ago and the brass were concerned that she might have had some contact with him. They didn't think she'd done anything illegal but if she was seen with him now, it could be, the email said, "embarrassing."

Sachs cleared her throat and said nothing. Rhyme had known all about Nick and Sachs-how they'd talked about getting married, how close they'd been, how shattered she'd been by his secret life as a criminal.

Baker shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how else to handle it. I was told to give them a complete report. Details of where I'd observed you, things I learned about you. On the job and off. Any connection with this Carelli or any of his friends."

"That's why you were pumping me for information about her," Rhyme said angrily. "This's bullshit."

"All respect, Lincoln, I'm putting myself on the line here. They wanted to pull her anyway. They didn't want her on a high-profile case, not with that history. But I said no."

"I haven't seen Nick in years. I didn't even know he was out."

"And that's what I'm going to tell them." He nodded toward his briefcase again. "My notes're in there." Pulaski found some more sheets of paper. He gave them to Sachs and she read through then laid them out for Rhyme to read. They were jottings about the times he'd observed her and questions he'd asked, what he'd seen in her calendar and address book, what people had said about her.