"Damn right we did."

The fucker had been here and stolen the hearts. Miller wanted to scream.

Gold gripped the knob and jiggled the door without opening it. Even in the poor light Miller could see that it wasn't latched. Whoever had killed Zeklos had no doubt stolen his keys.

Big question: Was he waiting inside?

Jolliff was on his wavelength. "Think he's in there?"

Miller thought not.

He said, "If you had an ambush set up inside, would you leave the door open?"

Jolliff shook his head. "No way. Fd've relocked it. That way we'd walk in thinking the place was as empty as we'd left it. We'd be sitting ducks."

"Okay, but why leave it unlocked? It's like a neon sign saying someone was here."

"Because that's just what it is. He wants us to know he was here. He's thumbing his nose at us, just like he did with that note on Zeklos. He's taken the hearts."

"Bastard," Gold said.

Miller's sentiments exactly. Still… nose thumbing or not, in a case like this it never hurt to be too careful.

"Okay. We need someone to go in low and slow and find the light switches. We'll stack up here; soon as the lights go on we'll ease in and secure the first floor. Anybody want to volunteer?"

"I'll go," Gold said. "Haven't seen any action in a while."

Miller took one side of the door, Hursey and Jolliff the other. Gold eased it open and entered in a crouch. Miller tensed to respond at the first hint of trouble, but none came.

Light flared from within, then he heard Gold say, "So far so good. Except for the bunk area, this level looks clear."

Miller entered in a crouch, pistol held before him in a two-handed grip. He found Gold squatting by the monitoring console.

Gold said, "I'll check the bunk area. Cover me."

They did just that as he zigzagged toward the open doorway. He reached inside and the lights came on. After a quick peek he entered, then came out a minute later.

"Nobody home," he said. His breath steamed in the cold air.

Miller relaxed, but not completely. He lowered his pistol but did not holster it. He couldn't see anything wrong, but some extra sense was on high alert.

He walked over to the far wall where they'd left the fallen brothers. He pulled the sheet off the closest. The heart was where they'd left it. No signs of further desecration, no notes.

The good news—if any good news about this scene could be called good—was that the cold appeared to have stalled decomposition.

Then why that note about a "collection"?

Miller did a slow turn. The other three, pistols in hand, had spread out, checking the nooks and crannies. The place looked exactly as they'd left it. What had the intruder wanted here?

Maybe they'd find something on the upper floors.

"Look for a note," he said.

The others nodded and split up.

Seconds later Hursey said, "Found something!"

He stood by one of the outer walls of the bunk area, just to the right of the doorway. He pointed to the floor.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't there before."

Miller squatted for a better look. Two words… hand printed in red at the base of the wall.

"You're right. It wasn't." At least he was pretty sure it wasn't.

"What the hell's it mean?"

Miller shook his head. "Damned if I know."

"Here's another one," Gold said, pointing to the floor to the left of the door. "Same thing. I don't get it. What—?"

"Hey!" Jolliff called from the far side of the room. He stood by the stairs, his head cocked toward the stairwell. "I hear something."

Miller joined the migration to the doorway. The four of them clustered, listening.

Miller heard nothing at first, then…

A voice.

Jack held the transmitter in his left hand, the mike in his right as he crossed the street and approached the warehouse door.

"Yeniceri," he said. "Calling all yenic,eri. I know you're here. Come out, come out wherever you are. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I'm even less dangerous than unsuspecting women and children."

He'd intended to repeat the taunt immediately, but choked on the rage and grief evoked by those final words.

He swallowed hard and kept moving. When he reached the door he was able to start again.

"Yeniceri. Calling all…"

Miller strained to make out the words. The voice, blurred by distance, distorted by static, had a tinny quality. That told him that it was either a recording or a transmission.

He nodded. Knew it. The guy couldn't resist leaving a pee stain on yenigeri turf. What was it this time? The electronic equivalent of a note?

Gold turned toward him.

"Well, I don't see any way around it. We'll have to go up and find out what's going on."

"Yeah," Miller said. "But not all of us." No way he was going to leave their rear flank exposed. "Gold, you came in first, so you stay down here and take our backs. Watch the door. I don't want any surprises."

Gold nodded, but didn't look happy about it.

Miller hit the light switch as he put his foot on the first step. The stairwell lit up. Nothing unusual there.

He motioned Hursey and Jolliff to follow, then started up. No hurry. They had plenty of time. The door on the first landing stood open. He kept his pistol trained on the dark rectangle.

The voice became louder as he ascended but no more distinct. No question—coming from the third floor. But he wasn't going there. Not yet. Level two had to be cleared first.

He stopped on the landing and reached around the door frame. He found the light switch and flipped it. As the ceiling fluorescents in the O's office flickered to life, he peeked into the space. The desk and the furniture were as they'd left them. The stains on the splattered walls were the same—no messages written in blood there.

He motioned to Jolliff to stay where he was and for Hursey to follow as he moved in.

A quick check confirmed the empty feel of the office. The only hiding place was the desk's kneehole, and that proved empty.

"Jolliff," he said. "Get in here and watch the door while we check out the living quarters."

A search of the O's apartment—the closets, the pantry, even under the beds—yielded nothing.

"One more stop," Miller said as he led the way back to the stairwell.

"… Calling all yeniceri. I know you're here…"

Jack stood in the cold, repeating his mantra over and over.

What was taking them so long? They should have reached the third floor by now. The only reason for the delay he could think of was a stop on the second floor to check that out.

Good move.

Now—up to the third floor to get this circus going.

As they went up the steps, Jolliff's view was pretty much restricted to Miller's big butt. He leaned around and noticed that the door to the third level stood open as well. But unlike the second, the lights here were already on.

As he followed Miller's slow ascent, the voice grew louder with every step. But he still couldn't make out what it was saying.

At the top he and Hursey squeezed up beside Miller, pistols at ready.

A quick peek showed the level as they'd left it except for one detail: The black, elongated oval of a boom box sat on a table against the front wall. It was plugged into the wall socket and attached to an FM antenna taped to the bricks behind it. It had a CD and cassette player; the radio dial glowed.

Here was the source of the voice, but accompanied by too much static to be understood.

"Be careful," Miller said. "Could be just a distraction. Spread out and secure the space."

The third level offered fewer hiding places than the first and Jolliff figured the other two could complete their sweep in less than a minute without him. As Miller and Hursey moved away, he stepped up to the box. Not understanding the words was making him crazy. After all, he'd been the first to hear it. That made it his discovery.