The elevator finally came, and the other three cops boarded it. As they passed the third floor they could hear Bernstein’s feet pounding on the steel stairs. He reached the fourth floor just as they did and was banging on the steel fire door.

Somebody let him in, and the five cops ran through the apartment to the curving staircase and, with Pointer in the lead, ran up the last flight.

As Pointer reached the top of the stairs she could see across the living room to the bar. Willa was on the floor, naked, and Daltry was behind and on top of her, oblivious to the five cops rushing across the room. Pointer got there first, and swung her gun at his head. There was a flash of blood, and Daltry fell sideways, clutching at his scalp and screaming. The four men fell on him.

Pointer shucked off her raincoat, went to Willa and covered her. “Oh, Willa, baby,” she crooned, stroking her hair. “What did that bastard do to you?” She turned back toward the cops. “Don’t kill him, for Christ’s sake! Get on the horn and get an ambulance down here, and tell them to send a fucking doctor, not just an EMT. Willa is unconscious!”

Back at Elaine’s, Dino answered his cell phone again. “What?”

Bernstein was breathing hard. “He’s hurt Willa,” he shouted into the phone. “We got him, but he’s hurt her.”

“Have you called for an ambulance?”

“Yeah, it’s on the way. We’ll probably end up at Bellevue; I’ll call you.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Dino said. He snapped the phone shut and turned to Stone. “You take care of the ladies,” he said. “I’ll call you when I know more.” His cell phone rang again, and he flipped it open. “Bacchetti.” He listened for a moment. “Great! Get him into the city pronto. I’m going to Bellevue, and when I know what’s going on there, I’ll come back to the precinct.” He snapped the phone shut again. “The state cops have arrested one Jerome Daltry at Devlin Daltry’s house in Sneden’s Landing on a parole violation. They’re bringing him down here. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Dino ran for his car.

Willa Bernstein slowly came to in a dimly lit room. Somebody was holding her hand.

“Willa? It’s Shelly, baby, can you hear me?”

Willa nodded. “My head hurts,” she said. “And that’s not all. What happened?”

“Don’t you worry, baby, we got Daltry; everything’s going to be all right.”

“What happened to me?” Willa asked. “We were fighting; that’s all I remember.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Shelly said. “You just get some rest.”

Willa’s voice got stronger. “Goddammit, Shelly, tell me what happened!”

Shelly took a deep breath. “He raped you, honey. He knocked you unconscious, and then he raped you.”