Rhyme was disappointed, though not surprised. He was disappointed too that Sachs wouldn’t be able to return to Naples until tomorrow. The crew of Mike Hill’s private plane would stay in Switzerland that night and would collect Sachs in the morning, early.

She reported, though, that she’d found a great hotel, the Manin, across the street from what had been the famed Milan zoo. It was also within walking distance of La Scala, the opera house, and the Duomo, the Milan cathedral. She was lukewarm about tourist sites but would probably hit them, since there wasn’t time to do what she really wanted: head out to Maranello—the home of Ferrari—and take an F1 out on the track for a joyride.

Rhyme now looked up at the Forestry officer. “Yes, yes, Ercole. Tell me.” He nodded too to Thom, indicia of his thanks.

“Beatrice Renza has finished her analysis of the evidence.” Ercole lowered his voice, unnecessarily, for they were alone. “In the Soames case. I will report to you now. First, about the apartment where the attack occurred.”

Ercole walked to the desk and found the yellow pad that the unauthorized investigative team was using for the renegade assignment—the mini chart. He wrote carefully, apparently recalling his bad marks for penmanship:

The Smoking Station, Natalia Garelli’s Apartment, Via Carlo Cattaneo

• —Trace:
  • —Acetic acid.
  • —Acetone.
  • —Ammonia.
  • —Ammonium oxalate.
  • —Ash.
  • —Benzene.
  • —Butane.
  • —Cadmium.
  • —Calcium.
  • —Carbon monoxide.
  • —Cumin.
  • —Enzymes:
    • —Protease.
    • —Lipases.
    • —Amylases.
  • —Hexamine.
  • —Methanol.
  • —Nicotine.
  • —Phosphates.
  • —Potassium.
  • —Red wine.
  • —Saffron.
  • —Sodium carbonate.
  • —Sodium perborate.
  • —Curry.
  • —Tobacco and tobacco ash.
  • —Cardamom.
  • —Urate.

The Attack Site, Adjoining Roof, Via Carlo Cattaneo

• —Trace:
  • —Cumin.
  • —Enzymes:
    • —Protease.
    • —Lipases.
    • —Amylases.
  • —Phosphates.
  • —Saffron.
  • —Sodium carbonate.
  • —Sodium perborate.
  • —Cardamom.
  • —Curry.
  • —Urates.

“As you can see,” Ercole said excitedly, “there are similarities, common elements of the two. So it’s likely that the same person at the smoking station, who left that trace, also was the attacker.”

Not necessarily likely but certainly possible, Rhyme thought. Scanning the listings, considering possibilities, plugging in theories, unplugging others.

“Beatrice is working to tell us what the chemicals might mean.”

“Fine, fine, fine, though I think we might not need her to.”

The Forestry officer paused. Then he said, “But alone, they’re just substances. How can we tell what they might be from? We need to see what they combine to become.”

Rhyme muttered, “Which is what I’ve done. The chemicals at the smoking station—for instance, the acetic acid, acetone, ammonia, benzene, butane and cadmium—are, no shock here, from cigarettes.”

“But they’re poisons, aren’t they?”

Thom laughed. “Don’t smoke, Ercole.”

“No, I don’t. I won’t.”

Rhyme frowned at the interruption. “So, I was saying. At the smoking station, cigarette smoke residue. But, the other ingredients: I see laundry detergent. The spices, of course, are obvious. Curry. Indian food. Now, at the site of the assault? Laundry detergent and spices only. Now, think back, Ercole. On the roof, was there laundry hanging anywhere nearby? I’ve seen that everywhere in Naples.”

“No, I’m sure there was not. Because I, as a matter of fact, looked for that very thing myself. I was thinking that someone reeling in laundry might have seen the attack.”