“What?” O’Neil asked, seeing her face.

“Oh, I couldn’t place that face.” She pointed. Although the focus of the pictures was the bloodstains, in the mirror behind the bar you could see several faces. They were indistinct but the one she indicated was fairly visible.

“It’s the U.S. congressman.”

“Congressman?”

“Nashima. Daniel Nashima. He must’ve come back to examine the club after the police released the scene.”

Boling said, “If it’s an election year, he’ll be talking about reforms in fire codes and all that. Not to be cynical.”

Dance said, “Really appreciate all this. Thanks, Jon.”

“Wish I’d been more helpful.”

“That’s the thing about policing,” O’Neil said. “Even if it doesn’t pan out, you’ve got to do the work anyway.”

So Prescott’s computer was a bust. But then Dance asked, “What about the unsub’s phone?”

The burner he’d dropped during the pursuit in Orange County.

“It’s a prepaid from a Chicago exchange.” He handed her a printout that showed the number.

“Like the one he used at the site of the Bay View Center disaster, to lead police into thinking the killer was headed toward Fisherman’s Wharf.”

Boling added, “My guess is he goes through a phone every few days. This one has only a few texts on it. To and from a prepaid with a California exchange.” He consulted his notes. “Incoming: ‘Very pleased so far. Second installment en route.’ Outgoing: ‘Good. Thanks.’ Incoming: ‘What’s next?’ Outgoing: ‘Cleaning up. All will be good. Will be in touch.’”

“Well,” Dance whispered.

O’Neil was nodding. “There’s our answer.”

She said, “Sure is.”

Boling said, “Sorry? What do you mean?”

She explained, “Our unsub is a pro. He’s working for somebody.”

Dance then placed a call to TJ Scanlon, gave him the number of the California phone and asked him to contact the service provider and see if the unit was still active.

“On it, boss.”

Then a thought occurred to her. She considered it. Interesting idea. She said to O’Neil, “Do you have the pictures of your Jane Doe, the one we think our unsub killed?”

“Sure.”

He went onto the MCSO secure server and called them up.

On her computer she accessed the images of Stan Prescott.

O’Neil said, “Right. Like we said before. Same sort of MO. Strangled or asphyxia. On their backs.”

“And,” she said, “look. They’re both under lights.”

“Maybe they just fell there.”

“No. I don’t think so. I think he moved the lamps so he could get pictures on his cell phone. It occurred to me when I was looking at the crime scene pictures on that website—those bodies were all well lit too.”

O’Neil nodded, now understanding. “Proof of death.”

“Exactly.”

“What do you mean?” Boling asked.

“He needed clear pictures to prove that the witnesses’d been eliminated. That line in the text about ‘cleaning up.’ He’s making a lot of money on this job and he wants to make sure the man who’s hired him is confident he’s not leaving any traces.”