"He could've come in any time, dropped the disc off. Hung around for a drink, watched her send it off. Bides his time," Eve said quietly. "Makes sure he stays in the crowd so he doesn't show up on the security. A drink, a dance-might even be trolling for the next one-and he picks up the disc, puts it in his pocket, and strolls on out. Goes home, gets himself a good night's sleep. I bet he slept just fine. And watches some screen so he can hear all about his fine work over morning coffee."

"It was easy for him," Feeney agreed. "It was all easy, straight down the line. He'll be looking forward to doing it again."

"We run the cameras, the enhancements, and the photographers in the three designated sectors. Check through any discarded discs the club hasn't already cycled in case he didn't pick it up. McNab, you hunt down the data junkie. You'd speak her language."

"I'm on it."

"I'm going back to the college, take a look at the Imaging class, try to reconstruct her last few hours. Then I need to take an hour's personal time. Peabody, you're with Feeney."

Eve picked up the photographs. She wasn't ready, not quite, to pin Rachel Howard to the dead board.

"I'll be back by fourteen hundred."

Chapter 6

It would've been different for Rachel, Eve thought as she stood in the back of the imaging lab and watched the workshop. It had been night, and there wouldn't have been so many students. Still Rachel would have been at a work station, like many of these young people, refining, defining, adjusting, admiring, the images she'd transferred from reality to camera, from camera to screen.

What had she been thinking as she'd taken that last class? Had her mind been on her work, or had it wandered toward spending the night with her friends? Had she listened to Professor Browning, as some of the students were now? Or had she focused on her own work, her own world?

Maybe she'd flirted with one of the boys who worked nearby. There were mild flirtations going on-the body language, the eye contact, the occasional intimate whisper that made up the mating dance.

She'd liked to date, she'd liked to dance. She'd enjoyed being twenty. And she'd never be a day older.

She listened while Browning wrapped things up, outlined assignments, and she made sure the professor saw and acknowledged her as the class began to disperse.

They coupled up, Eve noted. Or grouped up, with a few solos winding through the cliques. That sort of thing hadn't changed since her school days, she mused.

God, she'd hated school.

She'd been a solo, by personal choice. No point in getting close to anyone, she thought now. Just passing through here, just marking time until I'm out of the goddamn system and making my own choices.

Which had been the Academy. The department. And another system.

"Lieutenant Dallas." Browning gestured Eve forward. She'd tamed her hair somewhat by pulling it back, pinning it up, but she still looked lush and exotic. Hardly Eve's internal vision of a college professor.

"Is there news?" she asked. "News on Rachel?"

"The investigation's ongoing" was all Eve would say. "I have a few questions. What would Rachel have been working on in here?"

"Wait." Leeanne drew out a memo book. "That's an introductory course, summer semester. We have a number of part-time students, like Rachel, and a good portion of full-timers on a fast track during summer session," she continued as she flipped through the book. "Not quite as big a load as during the fall and spring semesters, but… Ah yes, Faces. Portraits in the City. The connection between image and imager."

"Would you have any of her recent work?"

"Yes, I should have some samples and finished assignments in my files. Hold on just a minute."

She went to her computer, keyed in a password, gave a series of commands. "As I told you, Rachel was a conscientious student. More, she was having fun with this course. It wasn't a make or break for her, simply a filler, but she put effort into her assignments, and wasn't just warming a seat. Here. Take a look."

She stepped back so Eve could see the screen.

"Remke. It's the guy who runs the deli across from the 24/7 where she worked."

"You can see she captured a certain toughness by the angle of his head, the jut of his chin. He's a bulldog from the look of him."

Eve remembered the way he'd clocked City Maintenance. "That's on target."

"Yet there's a kindness in his eyes that she catches as well. There's the staging, the sheen of perspiration on his face, and the coolness of the tubs of salads in the chill box behind him for a good contrast and sense of place. It's a nice portrait. There are a few more, but this was the best of them."

"I'd like a copy of anything she turned in."

"All right. Computer, copy and print all imaging documents from Rachel Howard's class file." She angled toward Eve as the computer went to work. "I don't understand how these will help you find her killer."

"I want to see what she saw, and maybe I'll see what her killer saw. The students who just left this class, most of them had bags. Disc bags or portfolios."

"Education requires a lot of baggage. A student will need a notebook, a PPC, discs, probably a recorder, and for this course, a camera. That doesn't touch the enhancements, the refreshments, the 'links, the completed assignments, the personal items they haul around campus."

"What kind of bag did Rachel carry?"

Browning blinked, looked blank. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I can't say I noticed."

"But she carried one?"

"Well, they all do." Browning reached behind her desk, held up a large briefcase. "So do I."

The killer had kept her bag, or disposed of it, Eve decided. He hadn't dumped it with the body. Why? What use was it to him?

She made her own notes as she walked down the hall, as Rachel had done.

There wouldn't have been as many people wandering through that night. Just a handful here and there from evening classes-summer evening, Eve thought. Campus isn't as full.

She'd walked out with a group. Laughter, talking. Let's go have pizza, a beer, coffee.

She declines. Heading over to the dorm to hang out with some pals. See you later.

Eve stepped out of the building, as Rachel had done, loitered a moment on the steps, as she imagined Rachel had done. Then stepped down, turned left on the walkway.

There may have been a few other students walking the same path, heading to dorms or toward public transpo. Quiet, she imagined, it would've been fairly quiet. The street and traffic noises buffered back, the bulk of the students in dorms or at their clubs and coffeehouses.

Others heading to apartments or action off campus. Breezing off to the subway, the bus stop. To the parking facilities. Older students, too, adults who'd decided to expand their horizons with an evening class.

Anyone might wander on campus. Columbia was part of the city, merged with it. The way it sprawled over Morningside Heights made security a joke. Rachel wouldn't have worried about it. She was a city girl, and she'd have thought of the campus as a kind of haven.

Had he walked behind her? Had he crossed that open area between buildings? Or had he walked toward her?

She paused, judging the distance to the dorm, the parking facilities, the buildings. He'd wait, Eve decided. Why be seen with her if he could avoid it, so watch and wait while she turned again, started moving on the walkway toward the dorms. Still a good, solid five-minute walk, and heading into more secluded areas.

She wasn't in a hurry, not with the whole night ahead of her.Dark by this time, but the paths are lit, and she knows her way. She's young and invulnerable.