Midnight.

    MichaelDrummond lifted the razor high into the air. He pulled back Lucy's hair,exposing the white of her throat.

    'Teacher...' he said.

    As hebrought the razor down Jessica saw the body on the floor move.

    Itwas not David Albrecht.

    DetectiveKevin Byrne rolled to his right, raised his Glock 17 and fired, slamming asingle bullet into Drummond's head, just above the man's right eye. Thickgobbets of bone and brain tissue burst from the back of Drummond's skull, ontothe white-tiled wall.

    Drummondcollapsed face down onto the counter, onto the band of cloud-white paper, hisbloodied face painting the sheet in a grotesque parody of a musical staff. Hisbody slumped to the floor.

    Jessicalooked into the kitchen, the sounds of the discharged weapon ringing in herears. As she stepped into the corner of the music room, and embraced LucyDoucette, she met Byrne's gaze. He was covered with blood, not his own. He hadbeen lying in wait. He looked at her, but his eyes saw something else, perhapssomething that had happened in this room a long time ago, something that hadjust now come to a close.

    TheEcho Man was dead, his symphony now complete.

Chapter 101

    Forthe second time this night, the Philadelphia Police Department processed acrime scene at this address. Dozens of personnel moved like silent ghoststhrough the now brightly illuminated spaces.

    Outside,Jessica and Byrne stepped into the shadows. When they were alone, out ofearshot, she turned to him, her anger at being left out of the loop seethingwithin her. 'You've got about five fucking seconds to start explaining allthis.' 'I know you're upset.'

    'I'mway past upset,' Jessica said. 'When did you set all this up? Yesterday?'

    'No,'Byrne said. 'Bullshit.'

    Shepaced. Byrne gave her time.

    'Jess,trust me on this. The arrest was real. Diaz and his team had evidence that thetattoos were mailed to my address. They also had hair and fiber evidence frommy van. They came in hard to get me. I was completely blindsided.'

    'Whatthe hell were you doing here?'

    Byrnelooked at the house, then back. 'I'm not sure my answer is going to be goodenough for you.'

    'Tryme.'

    Anotherpause. 'I knew the answer to all of this was locked inside Christa's mind. Iknew time was short, but I had to work that angle.'

    Jessicajust listened, deciding not to tell Byrne that she already knew about theevidence Diaz had. But she now realized that it was Drummond who had plantedthe evidence, hoping to buy himself more time tonight, counting on the arrestof Kevin Byrne.

    'Whenwe got to the Roundhouse they patted me down,' Byrne said. 'They took mycellphone. Russ Diaz started scrolling through the calls I'd made today. Healso saw the folder that holds the photographs. He saw this.' Byrne held up hisphone. 'I hadn't really looked at it before. When I did, it all fell intoplace.'

    Byrnetapped the screen, showed Jessica a picture. In it, Christa- Marie stood on thesteps of a huge stone building. Next to the scarred oak doors was aninscription. Byrne tapped the screen again, enlarging the words.

    Whatyou leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woveninto the lives of others.

    Jessicalooked at Byrne. 'This is what Drummond said at his leaving party.'

    Byrnenodded.

    'Andthis picture was taken at Convent Hill,' she added.

    'Yeah.'

    Jessicarecognized the place. It was in the photograph that she had found in JosephNovak's journal. The photo captioned with the word Hell.

    'Drummondhad been to Convent Hill to visit Christa-Marie. That was where he got theinscription. From the Roundhouse we called the Prentiss Institute and had themlook through the records. Michael Drummond studied with Christa-Marie. Both heand Novak were her students on the day when Gabriel Throne was murdered.'

    Jessicatook a step away, absorbing the new information. She turned back, her anger farfrom dissipated.

    'Ihad my weapon out, Kevin. More than once.'

    'Iknow.'

    'Somethingcould have gone really wrong, really fast.'

    Byrnepointed to the six SWAT officers gathered on the grounds. They had a directline of sight to the eastern side of the mansion, the side where the kitchenand the music room were located.

    'Atno time were you in jeopardy, Jess. They had Drummond in their sights throughthe windows. If he had made a move toward you they would have taken him down.We just hoped it wouldn't be before he talked. We had to get him to make theadmission.'

    'Why?What are you talking about?'

    Byrneheld up a CD in a crystal case.

    'Whatis that?' she asked.

    'It'sthe whole event. Christa-Marie has a very sophisticated recording studioupstairs. The music room has six microphones in it. Mateo is up in the studionow. He's like a kid in a candy store.'

    'You'resaying everything that happened in there was recorded?'

    Byrnenodded. 'When Drummond got here tonight he slipped upstairs, into that room, startedthe whole process. It's all on here. Christa-Marie playing Danse Macabre,including the background of Drummond's sick recordings of death screams. Hefinally got his magnum opus.'

    Jessica'shead was spinning. 'What about Lucy?' she asked. 'I don't care how good theSWAT guys are - Drummond had that razor at her throat.'

    Byrnelooked away for a moment as the ME's transport van pulled into the long drive.He looked back.

    'Wedidn't plan on Lucy,' he said. 'I had no idea she was here.'

    Ninetyminutes later, with the house sealed and guarded, Byrne was waiting for Jessicain the large circular drive. They would head back to the Roundhouse to beginthe long process of piecing together the horrors of the last few weeks.

    Jessicastepped through the front door, closed it behind her. She looked at her watch.It was 2:52.

    Itwas All Saints Day.

Chapter 102

    Tuesday,November 2

    Therewas no shortage of media interest. For the still photographers and videographersalike, the Tudor house at Chestnut Hill was a feast of images. It wouldprobably be on the list of horror tours next Halloween. The road in front ofChrista-Marie Schönburg's house was crowded with national and internationalmedia. Two days after the horror, the numbers were still growing.

    Forthe police, the whole story would take far longer to assemble. Theinvestigation revealed that Michael Drummond and Joseph Novak had both attendedPrentiss, had both taken private lessons from Christa-Marie Schönburg. Over theyears the rivalry between the boys had grown, not for first chair in anensemble but rather for the affections of Christa-Marie.

    OnHalloween night 1990, it came to a head. Although investigators might neverknow exactly what had happened, they believed that Michael Drummond and JosephNovak killed Gabriel Thorne that night. Drummond, being the dominant one of thepair, held this over Novak's head for the next twenty years.

    Thetwo men formed a small, unprofitable company, through which they publishedlimited-edition reproductions of sheet music, penned reproductions in thecomposer's hand. The paper they used was Atriana.

    WhenDrummond, who had taken a job at Benjamin Curtin's law firm - Paulson DenyChambers - learned of Christa-Marie's illness, his own psychosis led him down apath of destruction, a reign of terror that would be felt for a long time.