"And left?"

"And left."

"Why didn't they go in the apartment?"

"Because that would be against the law," Coughlin said. "Without sufficient cause, police have no right to break into anyone's home."

"The neighbor said, you said, that she thought something had happened in the apartment. That's not sufficient cause?"

"If there had been any sound, even any lights burning, any indication of forced entry, I'm sure they would have entered the apartment. There wasn't, and they didn't."

"And how do you think her family will react to that explanation? "

"This is Detective Lassiter," Coughlin said. "She can answer that better than I can."

"I've spoken to Miss Williamson's mother and brother," Olivia said. "They both told me they understand why the police did not break into the apartment. Mrs. Williamson said all that she wants is for the police to find whoever did this to her daughter before the same sort of thing happens to someone else."

"And what exactly did this guy do to her?"

"At this point, we don't even know it was a guy," Olivia said. "We just started the investigation. Commissioner, may I be excused?"

"Yes, you can, Detective, and I am about to excuse myself," Coughlin said. "Whenever we learn more, we will make it available to the press. Thank you."

"He's very good at that," Lowenstein said, in the apartment. "We look a lot better than we did five minutes ago."

Everyone agreed, but no one said anything.

Lowenstein looked around and found Jason Washington.

"You know O'Hara's cell phone number?"

"Yes, sir."

"I think it would be a very good idea for you to meet with him, now. Take Payne and Lassiter with you."

"Yes, sir."

"As for the rest of you, one or two at a time, not all at once, get out of here and let the Homicide people do their job."

There were nods of understanding and a few "Yes, sir"s.

Chief Inspector of Detectives Lowenstein had two more thoughts:

"If you don't mind a suggestion, Sergeant Payne," he said. "I think that you personally should try to run down connecting the camera with the doer."

"Yes, sir."

"And I think it might be useful if you asked Dr. Payne to look at those pictures. Do you think she would be willing to do that?"

"I'm sure she would, sir."

"Chief," Captain Durwinsky said, "I'd like to have copies of those pictures as soon as I can have them. We may be dealing with the same doer."

"How can that be done, Payne?"

"All I need is access to a computer with a digital photo program and a color printer," Matt said.

"We've got one at Special Victims," Durwinsky said. "That's not far."

"Okay," Lowenstein said. "There it is. O'Hara, Special Victims, your sister and running down the doer via the camera. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Matt said.

"O'Hara first, Chief?" Captain Durwinsky asked.

"Yeah, Helene," Lowenstein said. "O'Hara first. I would like to see at least one story in the newspapers that doesn't gleefully point out our many failures and all-around stupidity. Okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. Now everybody get to work."

Lowenstein walked out of the apartment.

[TWO] In the hope that it wouldn't be seen, Michael J. O'Hara of the Philadelphia Bulletin parked his Buick Rendezvous behind the Oak Lane Diner at Broad and Old York Road. The Rendezvous, with its array of antennae, was known to other members of the Philadelphia press corps, and some of his colleagues were even bright enough to be able to spot an unmarked car, and wonder what O'Hara was up to with the cops.

Mickey entered the diner and, after looking around, found Lieutenant Jason Washington, Sergeant Matt Payne, and that good-looking detective who'd come out of the crime scene with Denny Coughlin to face the press, at a banquette in the rear, drinking coffee.

He walked to them and slid in beside Washington.

"Well, isn't this acoincidence!" O'Hara said. "Mind if I sit down?"

"I hoped you parked that conspicuous vehicle of yours where it will not attract the attention of the Fourth Estate?" Washington asked.

"Jesus!" Mickey said, his tone suggesting that Washington should have known the question was unnecessary. He smiled at Detective Lassiter. "I'm Mickey O'Hara."

"Yes, sir, I know who you are," Olivia said.

Mickey shook his head sadly, gave out a long sigh, and turned to Matt.

"You're in luck, Matthew," O'Hara said. "This beauty-this young beauty-calls me 'sir,' which means she has decided I am too old to merit her interest."

"As obviously you are," Washington said.

"Then, speaking with the wisdom of a senior citizen, my beauty, let me advise you to beware of this young man. While some think of him as the Wyatt Earp of the Main Line, others more accurately describe him as the Casanova of Center City."

"That's not funny, Mick," Matt flared.

"Which part?"

"The Wyatt Earp part," Matt said. "As a matter of fact, both parts."

"One day, my beauty…"

"My name is Lassiter," Olivia said.

"One day,Lassiter, my beauty," O'Hara went on, "not so long ago, in an alley of our fair city, Wyatt Earp here put down a very bad guy who was shooting at both of us with a.45. I meant nothing but respect in dubbing him Wyatt Earp."

"As disassociated as I am from the realities of life," Washington said, "I actually thought you would be interested in learning what has transpired at 600 Independence."

"Iknow what happened at 600 Independence. A citizen called 911 when she heard strange noises in the next apartment. Two uniforms responded, and they all stood around chatting and not taking the door while the doer worked his wicked way on the victim. What else do I need to know?"

"You know why they didn't-couldn't-take the door?"

"This is not at all what I expected when you called, Jason, my oversized old pal," Mickey said.

"Excuse me?" Washington said.

"When you summoned me, I expected to find you, Tony Harris, and that black kid from the Roy Rogers-you do recall asking if I would mind going over the whole thing from Step One once again with the aforementioned?"

"That's at five o'clock this afternoon. That's when you said you'd be free and when the kid gets off work," Washington said.

"Then you called again, Jason, twenty minutes ago, and asked if I was free to come here now, and I said yes, and I walk in here, and not only do I get Wyatt Earp and the beauty here, instead of the expected aforementioned, but you ask me the really dumb question 'do I know why Hyde and Cubellis didn't take the victim's door?' "

"How'd you know their names?" Olivia blurted.

"I wouldn't want this to get around, my beauty, but some of my friends are cops."

"And?" Washington asked.

"What you've got are two nice young cops who are sick about maybe being outside doing nothing while this critter was doing what he did to the girl-that's their first reaction- and second, they are naturally a little worried that the mayor is going to hang them out to turn in the wind. I don't intend to let that happen. I'm going to do one of my famous think pieces. My working slug is 'A tough call, but the right one.' "

"Thanks, Mick," Washington said. "That's what I was hoping to hear."

"It would help if I knew a little about the doer, or maybe what he did to her."

"All we really know about him is that he is unquestionably a psychopath," Washington said.

"Isn't that a given with a rapist?"

"This guy is sick, Mick," Washington said.

"How do you know that?"

Washington hesitated just perceptibly.

"Not for publication?"

"Agreed."

"Show him the pictures, Matt," Washington ordered, and added: "He left his camera behind."

Matt took his laptop from his briefcase and slid it across the table.

"You know how to work Photo Smart?"