“What does that refer to? ‘Unsub’? I’ve never heard that.”

“English. ‘Unknown subject.’ It’s a term the American police use when referring to a suspect whose name they have not learned.”

Beatrice looked him up and down. “If you are taken with American expressions I think you are maybe more Columbo than Montalbano.”

Was this an insult? Columbo was that bumbling, disheveled detective, wasn’t he? Still, he was the hero of the show.

“As for the forensic results, should I contact you or Inspector Rossi or Prosecutor Spiro? Or another prosecutor?”

“Me, please.”

“Fine. Does this have priority over the Composer? I’m nearly finished with the analysis of the evidence you found outside D’Abruzzo.”

“That should be first. The Composer may be set to strike again, though perhaps if you could call about the CCTV on the NV Hotel? I am interested in any tapes the night of the twentieth, midnight to four a.m.”

“Midnight to four a.m. of the twentieth? Or the twenty-first of September?”

“Well, I suppose the twenty-first.”

“So, what you really mean is the ‘morning’ of the twenty-first. You misspoke when you said ‘night’?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

“All right.” She picked up a phone, and Ercole walked into the situation room, nodding to Captain Rhyme and Thom. Detective Sachs looked up at him, questioningly.

He whispered, “She will review it. And now she is calling the hotel. About the CCTV.”

“Good,” Rhyme said.

A moment later Beatrice stepped into the situation room. She nodded to those inside and said in Italian, “No, Ercole. The NV Hotel does have a camera but unfortunately it seemed not to be working at the time of the attack. There is nothing on the disk.”

“Thank you for checking that.”

She said, “Surely.” Then seemed to look him over as she turned and left. He glanced down at his uniform. Was he as rumpled as Columbo? He brushed at some dust on his jacket sleeve.

“Ercole?” Captain Rhyme asked.

“Ah, yes. Sorry.” And he told them about the CCTV.

“Always the way, isn’t it?” Captain Rhyme asked in a voice that didn’t seem surprised. “Put that on our portable chart.”

“Our portable chart?”

Thom handed him the yellow pad on which Sachs, at the café, had transcribed his translation of the evidence of the Soames case from the report provided by Elena Cinelli, Garry’s lawyer. He made a notation of the lack of video camera and slipped it under a stack of files on the table, out of sight. Well hidden. The last thing Ercole wanted was for Prosecutor Spiro to see it.

Captain Rhyme said, “We still need a search at Garry Soames’s apartment. To see if there’s any evidence of somebody planting the drugs.”

Ercole’s heart sank. But Captain Rhyme continued, “We’ll wait on that, though. We should have the evidence analysis from your trip out to the country soon. Happy to do the consulate a favor, but, like I told them, the Composer has priority.”

Relief coursing through him, Ercole nodded. “Yes, yes, Capitano. A good plan.”