'Frederic.Please.'

    'Frederic,'she said. She glanced around the room. All was well. For the time being.

    'Iwas wondering if you received the material I sent.'

    'Yes,we did. Thank you very much.'

    'Doyou have a moment to talk?'

    Jessicaglanced at the clock over the door. It was just slightly little less rude thanlooking at her watch. She had a little bit of time. 'Sure.'

    Theywalked to a quiet corner of the room.

    'Well,when you were in, your partner asked about program music. Symphonic poems.'

    'Yes,'Jessica said. 'Do you have further thoughts on this?'

    'Ido,' Duchesne said. 'Aesthetically, the tone poem is in some ways related toopera, the difference being that the words are not sung to the audience. Thereare examples of absolute music that contain narrative of sorts.'

    Jessicajust stared.

    'Okay,what I'm getting at is that, while there may be nothing in the music itself, alot of times material has been written as an adjunct to the music - a poeticepigraph, if you will.'

    'Youmean, written after the fact?'

    'Yes.'

    Duchesnelooked out over the room, then back.

    'Areyou a fan of classical music, detective?'

    Jessicasneaked a covert glance at her watch. 'Sure,' she said. 'I can't say I know toomuch about it, but I know what I like when I hear it.'

    'Tellme,' Duchesne began, 'do you ever go to concerts?'

    'Nottoo often,' she said. 'My husband is not a big classical-music fan. He's moreof a Southside Johnny guy.'

    Duchesneshot a quick glance at Jessica's left hand. She never wore her wedding ring -or any jewelry, for that matter - when she was in the field. Too manyopportunities to lose it, not to mention having it give away your position whenyou needed silence.

    'Thatwas terribly forward of me,' Duchesne said. 'Please forgive me.'

    'Noharm done,' Jessica said.

    'No,I've made a fool of myself. Mea culpa.'

    Jessicaneeded a way to wrap this up. 'Mr. Duchesne - Frederic - I really do appreciatethis information. I'll pass it along to the other detectives working the case.You never know. It might lead to something.'

    Duchesneseemed to be a bit flustered. He was probably not used to being shot down. Hewas not bad-looking in a Julian Sands kind of way, cultured and refined:probably a hell of a catch in his social circle. 'Please feel free to call meanytime if you think of something else that might be helpful,' Jessica added.

    Duchesnebrightened a little, although it was clear he realized what she was doing -trying to placate him. 'I certainly will.'

    'Bythe way, what brings you here tonight?'

    Duchesnepulled a visitor badge out of his pocket, clipped it to his sport coat. 'I'vedone some work as a forensic audiologist,' he said. 'Strictly on a contractbasis. My specialty is physical characteristics and measurement of acousticstimuli.'

    Younever know, Jessica thought. She extended her hand. They shook. 'Have fun.'

    Asshe watched Duchesne walk across the room, her cellphone vibrated. She lookedat the screen. It was Byrne.

    'Kevin.Where are you?'

    All sheheard was the hiss of silence. She wasn't sure Byrne was still there. Then:'I've got to go in for more tests.'

    Itdidn't register. 'What are you talking about?'

    Anotherpause. 'They read my MRI. They want me to go back for more tests.'

    'Didthey say what it was about?'

    'Theydon't want you back because everything is all right, Jess.'

    'Okay,'Jessica said. 'We'll deal with it. I'll go with you.'

    Moresilence. Then Jessica heard a bell on Byrne's end. Was that the sound of anelevator? 'Where are you?'

    Noanswer.

    'Kevin?'The silence was maddening. 'When do they want you to—'

    'Theoriginal homicides. The cold cases. It was right in front of us. I didn't getit until I was driving up the parkway.'

    Byrnewas talking about Benjamin Franklin Parkway.

    'Whatdo you mean? What's on the parkway?'

    'Idrove by the hotel, and it all fell into place,' he said. 'You never knowwhat's going to make sense, or when it's going to happen. It's what ties themtogether.'

    Jessicagot an earful of loud static. Byrne said something else, but she didn'tunderstand it. She was just about to ask him to repeat what he'd said when sheheard him loud and clear.

    'There'sa package for you with the concierge.'

    Theconcierge?

    'Kevin,you have to—'

    'It'sthe music,' he said. 'It's always been about the music.'

    Andthen he was gone. Jessica looked at the screen on her phone. The call hadended. She called Byrne right back, got his voicemail. She tried again. Sameresult.

    There'sa package for you with the concierge.

    Shewalked out of the Crystal Room, across the lobby to the concierge desk. Therewas indeed a package for her. It was a pair of nine-by-twelve envelopes. Hername was on them, scrawled in Byrne's handwriting. She stepped away, lookedinside each envelope. Files, notes, photographs, charts. It was not theofficial file, but rather a second one that Byrne had been keeping.

    Sheraised Josh Bontrager on the handset. A few minutes later they met in a smallmeeting room on the first floor. Jessica closed the door, told Bontrager abouther phone call from Byrne. Then she opened one of the envelopes, put thematerial on the table.

    Thefirst four pages on the top of the pile were photocopies of the deathcertificates for Lina Laskaris, Marcellus Palmer, Antoinette Chan and MarciaJane Kimmelman.

    Whyhad Byrne dropped off this information? She'd seen all of it before. What wasin here that he wanted her to notice?

    Jessicascanned the pages, taking in the relevant data: Name, date of birth, address,parents, cause of death, date of death.

    Dateof death.

    Hergaze shifted from document to document.

    'It'sthe dates, Josh,' Jessica said. 'Look.'

    Bontragerran his finger down each page, stopping at the entry for date of death.'Marcellus Palmer was killed on June 21. Lina Laskaris and Margaret van Tasselwere killed on September 21. Antoinette Chan was killed on March 21. MarciaJane Kimmelman was killed on December 21.'

    'Thoseare all the first days of the seasons,' Jessica said. 'The killer picked thesecases because the original homicides took place on the first days of spring,summer, fall and winter.'

    'Yes.'

    'Thisis what Kevin meant when he said it came to him when he drove by the hotel. Hewas talking about the Four Seasons.'

    Thenext documents in the file were copies of the photographs of the animal tattoosin situ. Jessica put the photographs side by side, six in all, spreadacross the table. 'These are all animals in the Carnival of the Animalsby Saint-Saens.'

    Theylooked at the photographs left to right. Six tattoos, six fingers. Sixdifferent fingers.

    Therewas one other item in the first envelope. Jessica reached in, slid it out. Andthey had their answer.

    Insidewas a small booklet, about the size and shape of a Playbill. It bore adate from 1990. Jessica looked at the cover.

CHRISTA-MARIE SCHÖNBURG, CELLO

AN EVENING WITH SAINT-SAENS ANDVIVALDI

SELECTIONS FROM THE FOUR SEASONS,

CARNIVAL OF THE ANIMALS AND DANSE MACABRE ARRANGED FOR THE CELLO BYSIR OLIVER MALCOLM

    Jessicaopened the booklet. The program began with brief selections from each part ofThe Four Seasons. After that were selections from Carnival of theAnimals.