His shrug was barely perceptible. “You pull your opponent’s head down and simultaneously bring up a knee to his chest. Swiftly. Powerfully.”

I frowned. “And that can kill?”

“With sufficient force applied, yes. The energy moves up from the feet to the knee, delivering a blow to the soft tissue under the rib cage while the opponent’s head is held in a stationary position.”

“Judas.”

“The ribs are driven back through the lungs and solar plexus, shocking the nervous system. Enough force can be generated to equal two cars colliding head on at thirty-five miles an hour. If I may be somewhat pedantic…”

“Pedantic away.”

“Just below the chest, the solar plexus is comprised of a dense bundle of nerve cells and supportive tissue. This is the abdominal cavity’s autonomic nerve center, a concentrated bundle of nerve cells and supporting tissue—ganglia, interconnected neurons – that through their linkage with other nervous system bundles, allow disruption of visceral functioning for other organs, including the heart muscle.”

“Causing death.”

“Causing death, again—with proper force. If proper is the right word. This is nothing I would ever teach a student, or even mention, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But perhaps you would like me to show you a move to counter it?”

“Uh…yeah. Oh yeah.”

*   *   *

As I came in through the office door, Velda was at her desk, on the phone, saying, “Here he is now, Pat.”

I hung up my coat and hat, blew her a kiss, went on into my inner chamber, and took the call at my desk.

“We have another homicide,” Pat’s voice said.

“Well, isn’t that what you’re captain of?”

“A specific kind of homicide.”

“…Shit. Not…”

“Another crushed chest cavity. A woman named Jasmine Jordan, a black call girl who worked out of an apartment house on East 78th. She had a whole damn floor to herself and her clients.”

“Hell. At least she didn’t work at Colby, Daltree & Levine.”

His laugh was short and harsh. “Doesn’t mean she didn’t know somebody there. The Jordan woman was thirty and on Vice’s radar, but this current operation was new to them. Other residents, none of whom were thrilled by Ms. Jordan’s presence in the building, saw respectable-looking gents in business suits arrive by limo or cab, and later get picked up the same way.”

“Do we know when she died? Who found her?”

“Anonymous tip. Female voice. Maybe a co-worker who found her and called it in, then got the hell out. Died last night between midnight and three a.m. is the initial read. Autopsy is today and we’ll know more.”

I grunted. “Somebody’s ambitious. That’s three kills in forty-eight hours…Vincent Colby could’ve been one of her well-heeled johns, you know.”

I could almost hear his eyes narrowing. “Mike—I thought you were working for his father.”