'We'vegot this covered,' Jessica said. 'Don't worry.'

    Byrnedid not want to leave. The first two hours were the most critical time of ahomicide investigation. After that, memories faded, people thought better ofgetting involved, forensic evidence had a way of giving itself back to nature.Although neither he nor Jessica were the lead investigator on this case, everywarm body was critical.

    'Kevin,'Jessica said. 'Go to your appointment.'

    'Iwant to stop by the other scene first. This is out of control.'

    'I'llgo,' Jessica said. 'You don't have to—'

    ButByrne was already on his way. He held his cellphone up as he walked back to thecar. 'Call me,' he said.

    Leavingthe cemetery, Byrne saw the names of the dead carved in time-weathered stone,dates marking fleeting lives, parentheses of birth and death. Out of respect,out of the disquieting knowledge that one day someone would be walking on hisfinal resting place, he did his best to avoid stepping on the graves.

Chapter 21

    Atfirst it is a muffled sound, like that of a wounded animal. I hear it themoment I step inside the room. It soon becomes crystal clear.

    I willnot be here long. I have much to do. I may be a poor cartwright, but mymarchioness awaits.

    Iam not alone in this room. There are others here. We are all part of something,fractions of a whole. They talk to me, to each other, but I don't hear them. Ihear what happened here years ago.

    Istand in the corner, close my eyes. The scene unfolds, like a stage play viewedthrough frosted glass, two figures forever mired in a dark and terriblevignette.

    Sheis a shy girl, no more than eleven. She has long blonde hair, woven into abraid.

    'Whoare you? Are you a friend of my mom's?'

    'Yes.We are old friends.'

    'Youshouldn't be here.'

    'It'sokay. I like your dress. It is very pretty.'

    'Thankyou.'

    'Ihave a prettier dress. One made especially for you.'

    'Forme?'

    'Ohyes. It is your favorite color.'

    'Blue?'

    'Avery pretty blue.'

    'CanI see it?'

    'Intime.''

    'Wheredo you know my mom from?'

    'Wework together.'

    'Mymom doesn't work anymore.'

    'Thiswas from before. From a long time ago.'

    'Okay.'

    'Doyou know the story of Eve?'

    'Eve?'

    'Yes.Eve in the Garden of Eden. Eve who was tempted by an apple.'

    Theblade removed from its sheath the creak of worn leather the sound of a littleheart beating in fear—

    'Idon't want you here anymore.'

    'Iwon't hurt you.'

    'Iwant you to leave, mister.'

    'Don'tyou want your pretty new dress?'

    'No.'

    Theblade shimmers in the bright afternoon sunlight—

    'I'mgoing to get my sister. I want you to leave now.'

    Theblade flutters and darts soaring high into the air—

    'Eve.'

    Theneighbors say they heard one scream that day, an unearthly wail thatcooled the blood in their veins.

    Ihear it, too.

    Itis a sound that began a thousand millennia ago, a red wind that has blownthrough the ages, finding cracks in the world, a breeze that became a howlingsirocco here, in the soul of a killer, in the festering heart of Room 1208.

Chapter 22

    Lucywalked down Eighteenth Street in what she had once heard, from one therapist oranother, was a fugue state.

    Shecouldn't get that photograph out of her mind.

    Thatcouldn't have been her house on Melbourne Road. It wasn't possible. It wasjust a picture of one of a million bungalows. They all looked alike, didn'tthey? Especially the crappy ones.

    Butwhat about that flag, Luce? Did they all have that raggedy flag hanging off theporch by a rusted nail, that stupid pennant that was supposed to mean Spring?The one you were supposed to change every three months but no one ever did, notonce in all the time they lived there? They had all of them - Spring, Summer,Fall, Winter, all four seasons, each looking more tattered than the other - butthey never changed Spring.

    Whatabout that, Luce?

    Whatabout the Spring flag?

    Shedidn't have an answer, just as she had no idea what had happened during thosetwenty minutes she couldn't recall. Somehow she must have talked about the dayshe disappeared. What did she say? And why didn't Mr. Costa tell herwhat she'd said? Wasn't that why she went to see him?

    Itwas all part of the process, she guessed. And she had two more visits to go.

    Fromthe time she was six or seven years old, Lucy had been an ace mechanic. Notwith cars, necessarily, although she could now do basic maintenance on most cars- changing oil, replacing plugs and belts, the occasional brake job if itdidn't involve turning the drums or rotors. No, her forte was small appliances.Bring her a stopped tape player, a cold toaster oven, a dimmed lamp - and a lotof the staff of Le Jardin often did - and she would have it up and running bythe end of lunchtime.

    Shehad not gone to a vocational training school, or taken any classes,correspondence or otherwise. It was a natural ability, combined with anecessity of life.

    Whenshe was small, on the night forays during which she and her mother pickedthrough trash they would often find all kinds of discarded items - toasterovens, blenders, tape players. Lucy's mother would haul them back to theirapartment, giddy with swag, then pretty much forget about them. Weeks later shewould throw them out, and Lucy would rescue them a second time. She startedwith the easy ones, but eventually got better at repair.

    Althoughshe didn't know it, she was practicing reverse engineering.

    Bythe time she was ten, Lucy would go out to dumps, finding her own things torepair. She knew every second-hand dealer in their small towns. Where most kidswere reading Dick and Jane, Lucy pored over Sam's Photofact.

    Inaddition, on her jaunts into the stores Lucy always stole the same colorclothes - sweaters, sweatshirts, skirts. She even replaced some of her mother'sclothes. Her mother was always falling down, ripping her clothes. Lucy got itdown to a science. She could steal a brand new dress and worry the materialjust enough so that her mother never knew she was wearing a different garment.Her mother was a proud woman in many ways, and it broke Lucy's heart to see hergoing around in ratty clothes.

    Onthis day, Lucy found herself in the Macy's near City Hall. She made her wayover to the children's section, found a sweater that looked to be the rightsize. She picked up two of them, carried them around for a while. When she gotto the women's section she selected a dress, brought it into the dressing room.

    Insideshe got out her small toolkit and, with her back to the mirrors - she knew allthe tricks - removed the electronic tags from one sweater and the dress,affixing them to the second sweater. She slipped the first sweater and thedress into her bag, left the dressing room, replaced the other sweater on thedisplay rack, tarried a bit to make sure that she wasn't being watched, thenwalked out of the store.