Gabriel closed his eyes to try to picture the assault. A coed free from college on her way to vacation. Strolling through the Quarter. He comes up behind her and grabs. Harmony fights her attacker. She thrashes about to evade the shot, but it’s no use. The heart attack does its work, and she dies. Her body is bundled inside a car or van and dumped on the street to be discovered by the crowds.

But the autopsy showed no signs of a struggle. The only bruises came from her contact with the asphalt and Erin’s attempt at revival. The rest of the tanned, smooth skin had been unblemished.

“She knew the killer,” he murmured as he turned to face them again. “The autopsy shows no ligature marks, no scrapes or cuts. Nothing to say she didn’t sit still, waiting for the injection.”

“So why her?” The detective in Sylvie needed more than language tricks. “Why select the prominent daughter of a despised man, shoot her up with insulin, and dump her in the French Quarter?”

“It doesn’t quite make sense. The others were kind to me, but with Harmony, I showed her mercy.” Erin finally locked eyes with Gabriel. She twisted the cap off her water and drank deep. The cool liquid eased her suddenly parched throat. “I changed her grade to let her join the sorority.”

“Who else knew?”

“The registrar. My teaching assistant. Kenneth.”

“So Bernard could have done it,” Gabriel said as he got to his feet. He thought more clearly when he was moving. When he wasn’t so near the rigid, terrified woman who was being tracked by a killer. He prowled the carpet between the window and the door, carefully avoiding Erin, despite the truncated area. “Sylvie didn’t arrest him until one, but she died hours before. That was enough time to kill her and dump the body.”

“Hold on a second,” Sylvie interjected. “Erin, you told me your guy has a procedure. He kills his victims and leaves the weapon. All the other victims were killed near their homes or offices.” She thumped the autopsy. “This one doesn’t fit. The other bodies weren’t moved. This one was. And there was no murder weapon. The paramedics didn’t find a syringe.”

Gabriel thought back to finding the body and his tip to Calvin. “Uh, Sylvie, they may not have done a thorough search. There were a lot of people out there that night. I don’t know that the cops would have known to search the area.”

“We know how to do our job, Gabe.” Impatiently, Sylvie scanned the police report again. Not a word about a sweep of the area. What kind of imbecile cop forgot to do a perfunctory sweep? Then she stared angrily at Gabriel. “Goddamn it, Gabriel! You sent the boy out there to keep him off your scent. If we missed the evidence, it’s your fault. Holy shit!”