Haveyou found them? The lion and the rooster and the swan?

    'Hello,detective.'

    Byrneturned to the sound of the voice. And saw Christa-Marie Schönburg for the firsttime in twenty years.

Chapter 52

    Jessicalooked out at the throng of police gathered in the parking lot across fromJoseph Novak's apartment. There were now two scenes to process - the murderscene, and the scene where a police detective had been assaulted. Out of thecrowd walked Nick Palladino, notebook in hand. He spoke to Dana Westbrook for afew moments. Every so often they glanced over at Jessica. Dino did most of thetalking. Westbrook did most of the nodding.

    Dinocame over when they were done, asked after Jessica's well- being. Jessica toldhim that she was all right. But she could see by the look on his face thatthings had just gotten worse.

    'What'sup?' Jessica asked.

    Dinotold her.

    Jessicadiscovered that she was mistaken about there being two scenes to process. Therewere three.

    LucasAnthony Thompson's body had been found dumped in another parking lot, threeblocks away. His body was nude, roughly shaved clean, and there was a band ofpaper around his head. It appeared that he had been strangled. On one of thefingers of his right hand was a small tattoo of an elephant.

    Itdidn't take long to determine the significance of the crime scene.

    LucasAnthony Thompson's body was found in the parking lot where Marcia Kimmelman'sbody had been found. It fitted the killer's pattern. Another murderer dumped atthe scene of his crime.

    Therewere already two teams watching Thompson's family members. If one of them wasan accomplice they would be targeted.

    Jessicalooked across the lot to see someone trying to get through the police cordon.It was David Albrecht. He wanted to talk to Jessica. The uniformed officer heldhim back, glanced over.

    'Lethim through,' Westbrook said.

    Albrechtcame running up, out of breath.

    'Whatdid you want to say?' Westbrook asked.

    'Iwas across the street, getting exterior shots of the building when I sawDetective Balzano come out of the front door.'

    Albrechtgasped for breath. He held up a finger.

    'Takeyour time,' Westbrook said. 'Would you like some water?'

    Albrechtshook his head, gathered his wind, continued. 'Okay, okay. So I saw DetectiveBalzano go into the diner, and a few minutes later she came out with a coffee,and walked over here.' He indicated the parking lot, which was now teeming withcrime-scene personnel. 'At first, I didn't think there was a shot, you know? Imean, a parking lot is a parking lot, right? Not the most exciting backdrop.We're not talking Robert Flaherty here.'

    Albrechtlooked at Jessica and Dana Westbrook, perhaps expecting a reply or a reaction.None was forthcoming. He continued.

    'Soanyway, I'm looking at the way the trees back here sort of frame the lot, theway that half-wall sort of provides a horizon, and I saw Detective Balzanopacing back and forth, and I thought it looked pretty good.'

    Heturned, pointed to his van across the street. 'I set the camera on my tripod,framed the shot, locked it down, then went into the back of the van for afilter. I wanted to use a Circular Polarizer because I wasn't getting muchcontrast. It took me a few minutes to find it, and when I came back around shewas gone. Just papers blowing around in the wind. I looked and saw that her carwas still down the block, so I knew she didn't leave. I figured she either wentback into the diner or back into the apartment building. I figured I justmissed her. Then I looked next to the building and . . . and I saw her lyingthere.' There was a slight hitch in Albrecht's voice.

    'Andyou didn't see the assailant?' Westbrook asked.

    'No,ma'am,' Albrecht said. 'I didn't. Not at first.'

    'Whatdo you mean, not at first?'

    'I meanI didn't see him live.''

    Westbrooklooked at Jessica, then back at Albrecht. 'I don't know what you mean.'

    'Ididn't realize I was rolling.'

    'Rolling?'Westbrook asked, clearly getting a little agitated.

    'Yeah.When I put the camera on the tripod I started shooting. I have to admit, I'mjust getting used to this camera. It's brand new. I hit the button by accident.It's a little embarrassing, but that's what happened.'

    'Whatare you saying?' Jessica asked.

    'WhatI'm saying is, I just watched the replay, and I think we have it.'

    'Havewhat?'

    DavidAlbrecht held up the camera. 'I think we have footage of the killer.'

Chapter 53

    Christa-MarieSchönburg sat in a large burgundy leather chair, her pale white hands folded inher lap. Even from across the room, the first thing Byrne noticed were hereyes. Not only were they a strikingly deep amber - he had noticed the samething twenty years earlier - but they had not changed. Two decades, two difficultdecades of incarceration, psychiatric treatment and dealing with whateverdemons had possessed her to begin with had not hardened her eyes in the least.They were a young woman's eyes, still as arresting as they'd been when she wasthe brightest star in the classical-music firmament.

    Herhair had turned a soft, shimmering silver.

    Shewas wearing a black silk pantsuit.

    Onthe table next to her was a pair of reading glasses and an open book.

    Byrnecrossed the room and found that he was at a loss for words. What power did shehave over him?

    Christa-Mariestood, still as slender as ever, but standing this close Byrne saw the faintlines that etched her face, her forehead, the papery skin on her hands. Still,with her cascade of silken hair, she was a beautiful woman. Perhaps even moreelegant than before.

    Hehad not stood this close to her since the night he had put her in handcuffs.

    Hetook her hand. His first instinct was to lean forward and kiss her on thecheek. He realized at the last instant that this would have been inappropriate,to say the least. Still, the urge was present. She made the decision for him.On tiptoes, she leaned in and grazed his cheek with her lips.

    Shehad been twenty-eight the last time he had seen her. She was now almost fifty.She had escaped, or postponed, so many of the things that can happen to a manor woman in those years. Byrne found himself wondering what he looked like toher, what the landscaping of his face and body by his job and habits and lifehad done to the image she might have retained from that day in 1990.

    Withouta word she gestured to the other chair by the windows, perhaps five feet away.Byrne sat down, but for some reason did not sit back. He leaned forward, theway one might do at a job interview. Music played softly in the background. Itwas a cello piece, with piano.

    Aftera few long minutes Christa-Marie spoke.

    'Itwas her last studio recording, you know.'

    'Who?'

    'Jackiedu Pre,' she said. 'She toured in 1973, and they savaged her. I wonder whatthey would have said of me.'

    Aftershe was sentenced in 1990, Byrne read a few books that had been written aboutChrista-Marie. The comparisons to Jacqueline du Pre were as specious as they wereexpected. It was said of Jacqueline du Pre that on her final concert tour, dueto her illness, she could no longer feel the strings and had to play by sight.Byrne, having never played an instrument, having never been considered great atanything - he was only world-class at screwing up romantic relationships -could only imagine the horror and heartbreak of something like this happeningto someone so gifted.