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    Whenthey stepped out of the MEO, David Albrecht was waiting for them. For anynumber of reasons he had not been allowed inside the morgue.

    'Whatdid I miss?' Albrecht asked.

    'Bunchof dead people,' Byrne said. 'I yelled "action," but nobody moved.'

    DavidAlbrecht soon dialed into the fact that he wasn't going to get anything out ofKevin Byrne on this matter. He turned to Jessica.

    'Whereto?' he asked.

    'We'regoing to grab some coffee,' Jessica said. 'You're welcome to join us.'

    'Thanks.'

    'Youcan get some shots of us looking at a menu, putting cream in coffee, fightingover the check,' Byrne said.

    Albrechtlaughed. 'Okay, okay. I'll just ramp up the suspense in post.'

    Byrnesmiled, winked at Jessica. It wasn't a thaw, but it was a start. Jessica knewthat Byrne was not particularly keen on being followed around with a camera.Neither was she.

    Albrechtleft his van at the ME's office and traveled with the detectives. They drovedown University Avenue.

    'So,are you getting what you want?' Jessica asked.

    'Prettymuch,' Albrecht said. 'I was at the district attorney's office earlier thismorning. I'm running two story lines at the same time. I'm shooting two of theDAs at work as well. I don't think it's ever been done before.'

    'Youmean following both police detectives and district attorneys?' Byrne asked.

    'Exactly.'

    'Youmean like every episode of Law and Order?'

    Albrechtwent quiet.

    'I'msure you'll put your own stamp on it,' Jessica said, shooting Byrne a look.

    Theystopped at a coffee shop on Spruce Street. Albrecht, sitting two booths away,really did get footage of them looking at menus. On the second cup, he put downthe camera and pulled up a chair to the booth.

    'Sowe're not your only stars?' Byrne asked.

    'No,'Albrecht said, smiling. 'I am painting a vast and varied canvas.'

    'I'vebeen meaning to ask you,' Byrne said. 'Did you shoot any footage of the crowdat the Federal Street scene?'

    'Yeah,'Albrecht said. 'It came out good.'

    'We'dlike to take a look at it, if you don't mind. Maybe our bad guy showed up togloat.'

    'Right,right,' Albrecht said, nodding. 'I'll get that on a disk right away.'

    'We'dappreciate it.'

    Thewaitress came over with three cups of espresso. They weren't for the table.They were all for Albrecht. Jessica and Byrne exchanged a glance.

    Albrechtsaw the look, shrugged. 'Well, you know the old saying. Sleep is a symptomof caffeine deprivation.' He knocked back one of the small cups in a singlegulp.

    Byrnetapped the DV camera on the seat next to him. 'So tell me, how did you get intothis?'

    Albrechtstirred sugar into his second cup of espresso. 'Well, it was probably my dad.He used to take me to the movies a lot when I was a kid. He was big in thearts, you know. For some reason I gravitated to documentaries at a young age.'

    'Doyou remember the film you liked the most?'

    'Ithink the movie that did it for me was called In the Shadow of the Stars.'He looked between Jessica and Byrne. 'Did either of you ever see it?'

    Jessicahad not. She told him so.

    'Thatwas the documentary on the choristers in the opera?' Byrne asked.

    'Yes!'Albrecht said. He looked around. 'Sorry. That was loud, wasn't it?'

    Byrnesmiled. 'Not in this place.'

    'Well,when I saw that - at the ripe old age of seven - I saw the possibilities of makingmovies about regular people. Nothing bores me more than celebrity. I neverwatch television.'

    'Thatmovie seems a little highbrow for a kid,' Byrne said.

    Albrechtdowned a second espresso, nodded. 'Like I said, my dad was big into the arts. Ithink we saw that film at a fundraiser. I was never the same afterwards. I wasespecially impressed with the music. The possibilities of sound editing inparticular.'

    Jessicasuddenly made the connection. 'Wait a minute. Your father was Jonas Albrecht?'

    'Yes.'

    Formore than twenty-five years Jonas Albrecht had been a force of nature inPhiladelphia arts, business, and politics - one of the directors of theprestigious Pennsylvania Society. He was a wealthy man, having made his fortunein real estate. He founded a number of organizations, and was deeply involvedwith the Philadelphia Orchestra until he was tragically killed in a violentcarjacking in 2003. Jessica had been on the force at the time, but it wasbefore she had joined the homicide unit. She wasn't sure if the case had everbeen closed.

    'Itwas a terrible tragedy,' Byrne said. 'We're sorry for your loss.'

    Albrechtnodded. 'Thank you.'

    Weare the sum of our experiences, Jessica thought. David Albrecht might not bedoing what he was doing now if it had not been for the terrible tragedy thathad befallen his father. It had taken Jessica a long time to realize that, ifit were not for her own life's tragedies, among which was her brother Michael'sdeath in Kuwait in 1991, her life might have taken another path. She had beenheaded to law school until that fateful day. It was Michael who had been goingto follow in their father's footsteps and join the force. Life takes its turns.

    WhileByrne and David Albrecht talked documentary film - not one of Jessica's strongsuits, she'd been halfway through This is Spinal Tap before she'drealized it was a spoof - she got on her iPhone, did a search for tattooparlors in Philadelphia. She called a few of them and was told that they didnot handle things like temporary tattoos. The last place she called, anemporium on South Street, mentioned a parlor that had recently opened onChestnut, a place called Ephemera. The girl said they did temporary tattooingand had a good reputation.

    Ephemerawas on the second floor of a row house converted into retail space. The firstfloor was a retail shop selling Asian specialty foods.

    WhileDavid Albrecht shot some exteriors of the building, Jessica and Byrne climbedthe narrow stairwell, opened the frosted-glass door.

    Thefront parlor was lit with dozens of candles. The walls were covered intapestries of magenta and gold. There was no furniture, no stools, justpillows. It smelled of rich incense. There were no customers in the waitingarea.

    A fewmoments later a woman walked through the curtains and greeted them. She wasIndian, elfin and delicate, about forty. She wore a turquoise silk kurtiand black slacks. 'My name is Dalaja,' she said. 'How may I help you?'

    Jessicatook out her ID, showed it to the woman. She then introduced herself and Byrne.

    'Isthere something wrong?' Dalaja asked.

    'No,'Jessica said. 'We just have a couple of questions, if you have a few moments.'

    'Yes,of course.'

    Dalajagestured to the large pillows in front of the window overlooking ChestnutStreet. Jessica and Byrne sat down. Well, sat was a loose term forByrne's action. For a man his size, the best Byrne could do was aim himself atthe pillow, then fall onto it.

    'Wouldyou like some tea?' the woman asked when they were settled.

    'I'mfine, thanks,' Jessica said.

    'Woulda cup of Masala chai be too much trouble?' Byrne asked.

    Thewoman smiled. 'Not at all. But it will take a few minutes.'

    'Noproblem.'

    Dalajadisappeared into the back room.

    'Masalachai?' Jessica asked softly.

    'Whatabout it?'

    'Doyou have some sort of secret life I don't know about?'

    'Well,if I told you it wouldn't be secret, would it?'

    Jessicalooked around the room. There were glass shelves on the far wall, eachfeaturing a stack of brightly hued clothing. Another glass rack held carvedartifacts and jewelry. The sound of modern Indian music floated softly frombehind the curtain.