“On the mounting foot’s a wireless camera I just installed,” Morales said. “In case Oscar shows up. Maybe tries to get back inside her apartment. You know, the old returning-to- the-scene- of-the- crime shit. Or if anybody decides to drop by, for that matter. I’m keeping an open mind. Maybe it’s not Oscar. But my money’s on him. My money’s on him killing the other two.”

Marino wasn’t in the mood to relay his conversation with Bacardi. Even if he weren’t on top of a roof and extremely unhappy about it, he wouldn’t be in the mood.

“The officer securing her apartment know you’re up here?” he asked.

“Shit, no. And you tell him, you’ll find out what a long way down it is, because I’ll throw your ass off the roof. Quickest way to fuck up a surveillance is to tell other cops about it. Including you.”

“Occur to you his marked unit’s right in front like a billboard ad for the NYPD? Maybe you should have him move it, if you’re hoping the killer will come sneaking back here.”

“He’s gonna move it. It was fucking stupid to park there to begin with.”

“Usually the bigger worry is regular people and the media thinking they can poke around. But no marked car? Okay. There goes your deterrent. Have it your way. You got any idea why the entrance lights weren’t on last night?” Marino said.

“I only know that they weren’t. It’s in my report.”

“They’re on now.”

Gusts of wind hit them like invisible waves of a stormy surf, and Marino felt as if he was about to be washed off the roof. His hands were stiff, and he pulled his sleeves over them.

“Then my guess would be the killer turned them off last night,” Morales said.

“Kind of a strange thing to do once he’s already inside the building.”

“Maybe he turned them off when he was leaving. So nobody would see him, in case someone was walking by, driving by.”

“Then you’re probably not talking about Oscar doing it. Since he never left.”

“We don’t know what he did. Maybe he was in and out getting rid of shit. Like whatever was used around her neck. Where’d you park?” Morales asked.

“Couple streets away,” Marino said. “Nobody saw me.”

“Yeah, you’re real subtle, bro. Sounded like a three-hundred- pound cat climbing up the side of the building. Too bad you didn’t get here a little earlier,” Morales said. “See that lady on the phone?”

He indicated the apartment where the woman in green pajamas was still on her couch, gesturing and talking.

“Amazing how many people don’t pull down their shades,” Morales said.

“That’s probably the real reason you’re up here,” Marino said.