KevinByrne was in custody and en route to the Roundhouse. Christa- Marie Schönburghad been taken to Mercyhurst Hospital as a precaution. Her private nurse, AdeleHancock, had been at the opera. She was contacted and was on her way to meetChrista-Marie.

    Beforelong it was Jessica, Dana Westbrook, and Michael Drummond, along with a fewofficers, searching and securing the house. Soon it would be November 1, AllSaints' Day, twenty years to the day when Christa-Marie had been arrested inthis very place.

    Westbrooktook Jessica aside. They stood in silence for a full minute, neither of themfinding the right words to say. 'We'll sort this out,' Westbrook said. 'There'sa hell of a lot about this I don't understand.'

    Jessicajust nodded.

    'Kevin'sarrest warrant came from on high,' Westbrook added. 'I had no choice but toserve it. You know that, right?'

    Jessicasaid nothing. She could not get the image of Kevin Byrne in handcuffs out ofher mind. The two of them had made so many arrests over the years, hunted downand brought to justice so many bad people, that she could not fathom Byrnebeing on that side of it all. The thought was beyond nauseating.

    'So,I'll see you at the Roundhouse?' Westbrook asked.

    Jessicalooked at her watch. 'Give me an hour.'

    'Yougot it.'

    Westbrooktook a few more moments, placed a hand on Jessica's shoulder and, perhapstrying and failing to find words, crossed the large atrium, stepped through thefront doors and left.

    Jessicaglanced across the hall, at the steps which she had seen Christa- Marie descendearlier. She had to clear her mind. She had to think.

    'Doyou want me to drop you somewhere?'

    Jessicaturned around. It was Michael Drummond.

    'Joshhas my car,' Jessica said.

    'Okay,'Drummond said. 'As soon as that scene is clear I'll send him back.'

    Drummondstepped away, made a quick phone call. When he was finished he made his wayover to where Jessica stood.

    'I'msorry it came down this way,' he said.

    'Idon't have much to say to you.'

    'Whatare you talking about?'

    'Ijust needed a little time, Michael. That's all. A little time.'

    'Ididn't make the call, Jessica.'

    Jessicalooked up sharply. 'You didn't? Then how did the fucking cavalry just happen toshow up?'

    'Policework, detective.'

    'Whatare you talking about?'

    'RussDiaz followed up with Kevin's cousin Patrick. It turns out that Mr. Connolly'svan had a Lojack installed.'

    TheLojack was a recovery system that allowed police to track and recover a stolenvehicle.

    'Russcalled it in as a routine stolen vehicle, and got this location,' Drummondcontinued. 'I had nothing to do with it.'

    Jessica'sanger and rage did battle with her embarrassment for assuming that Drummond haddropped a dime.

    'Andjust so you know, I talked to Detective Diaz,' Drummond said. 'Kevin is goingto be handled with respect. I won't stand for any cowboy shit.'

    Jessicahad so much to say that nothing would come out. What she really wanted to dowas scream.

    'We'regoing to need your full statement tonight,' Drummond added.

    Jessicanodded. She picked up her service weapon, slipped it into her holster.

    'Iknow this is hard for you, detective, but the good news, for the people ofPhiladelphia anyway, is that this nightmare is over.'

    Thefeelings inside Jessica began to swell. The one feeling missing from all of itwas doubt. She had no doubts about her partner. Her work, the task of provingKevin Byrne's innocence, started right now. Before she could make a move shenoticed someone standing to her left.

    'Ma'am?'

    Jessicaturned. Standing there were two patrol officers from the Fourteenth District.The one talking to her was a big kid, twenty- three or so. He was pale as aghost, but his hands were steady. 'The house is clear, ma'am.'

    Jessicalooked overhead, at the high ceiling, the large rooms. 'Are you sure? It's abig house, officer.'

    Thekid looked a little unnerved, then turned to look behind him. Four more officersstood there, and a pair of detectives from North that Jessica recognized. Thekid was saying that a total of eight police officers had searched the house andthat it was empty.

    'I'msorry,' Jessica said. 'It's not a good night.'

    'No,ma'am,' the kid said. 'There are two locked doors - one in the attic, one inthe cellar. Other than that, the structure is clear.'

    Hewaited a few moments, perhaps to see if there was anything else. Jessica shookher head. The officer touched the brim of his cap, and together, single file,the eight cops walked out.

    Asthe sound of the sector cars disappeared down the driveway, Michael Drummondput on his coat. He looked at Jessica, but remained silent. He walked throughthe door, closed it behind him.

    Thehouse was still.

    Jessicawas alone.

Chapter 97

    Lucyput the lantern on the bench and got her first real look at the room. It wassmaller than she'd thought. There was no window. It had been bricked in a longtime ago. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere. There were mouse droppings alongthe wall.

    Peggy.

    Lucyclosed her eyes, tried to blot it all out.

    Shelooked at the doorknob. It too was caked with dust. She picked up an old rag,cleaned it off. It was an old-fashioned white porcelain knob, set into acast-metal plate. She felt along the neck behind the knob, and found the setscrew. She angled the screwdriver behind the knob found the slot, gentlyturned. A few seconds later the set screw fell out. She carefully pulled offthe knob, holding the spindle tightly. She didn't need the knob on the otherside falling to the floor and making a racket. Then she went to work removingthe plate. Four screws. Although she could not see that well, it looked likethe screws in the plate were nearly stripped. She'd have one chance to get themout.

    Shelooked at the head on the screwdriver, which was also rounded, dull with ageand use. She put the screwdriver into the slot, put all of her weight behindit, doing her best to keep the tool perpendicular to the door.

    Shetook a deep breath and tried to turn it. Nothing. She backed off, tried again.This time she felt purchase.

    Thescrew turned. Not much, but it turned. Yes, Lucy thought.

    Alock was just a device with moving parts, right? If there were moving parts,Lucy Doucette could handle it.

    Sheset about her task.

Chapter 98

    Thehouse was silent in a way that no small space could ever be; silent like apresence. Every so often its tranquillity was broken by rain hitting the hugewindows in the great room or a branch scraping a gutter.

    Jessicahad lived most of her life in a place too small, a place where the extra closetor tiny room was a premium. This was a fact of life in a Philadelphia row house.But this place - with its high ceilings, tall doorways and cavernous rooms -was too much. She didn't think she could ever live somewhere like this,although the likelihood of that happening was somewhere between never andabsolutely never.

    Asshe peered out of the front windows, anxious to get back to the Roundhouse, herphone rang. She jumped at the sound. She hoped it was going to be Josh tellingher he was on the way. It was not. It was a number she did not recognize. Sheanswered.

    'Hello?'

    'I'mcalling for Detective Byrne.'

    Itwas a man's voice.