“The results of the date-rape drug analysis in Rome should be expedited. We must find out if the samples in his apartment are the same as what was in Frieda’s system.”

“Yes, I will look into that.”

“And Beatrice is completing an analysis of the soil outside Garry’s window.”

“Bene.”

“But I have another idea. I’d like to run one more analysis. Ercole can talk to Beatrice about that.”

“Ah, the Forestry officer. I had forgotten about him.” Spiro walked to the door. Stuck his head out and barked a command.

Ercole stepped inside, looking consummately awkward.

“You are not being dismissed, not yet, Ercole.” Spiro glowered. “Captain Rhyme here has saved your bacon. An American expression, well suited for a Forestry officer.”

Ercole was smiling, albeit without a splinter of humor.

Spiro’s face turned even colder. “But if you ever try to run an end—”

End run, Rhyme nearly corrected, though he decided not to.

“—your career will be over.”

“But what are you speaking of?”

“Isn’t it obvious? And I don’t mean that nonsense of enlisting Detective Sachs to translate Arabic, though the transparency of that ploy was laughable. What I am speaking of is the reporter at the Capodichino Reception Center: Nunzio Parada. The man pelting me with questions the night Dadi was killed. He is a friend of yours, is he not?”

“I…well, I am somewhat familiar with him, yes.”

“And did you not, after you saw me arrive, slip away and coach him to ask me about my brilliance in inviting the Americans here?”

The officer’s cheeks glowed bright red. “I am so very sorry, Procuratore, but I thought we could benefit if Detective Sachs assisted, and you, with all respect, did not seem willing to allow her to do so.”

“La truffa, your scam, served a purpose, Ercole, and so I played along, even though I saw it as such. It was a chance for the investigation to save face, while allowing the talented Detective Sachs to work on the case directly. But your plan was, in English, cheap. And most embarrassing for you, it was pathetically inept.”

“Why do you say that, Procuratore?”

“Did it not occur to you that rather than being lauded for my choice, I might be ridiculed for inviting to Italy detectives whom the serial killer managed to elude in New York?”

Rhyme and Thom smiled.

“Thank the Lord that the press are sufficient idiots that they missed that contradiction too. But in the future you will be straightforward with me. Do I not have the persona of a purring kitten?”

“Allora, Procuratore, the fact is…”

“You behave as if you are afraid of me!”

“I think many people are afraid of you, sir. With all respect.”

“Why is that?”

“You are stern. You are known to bark, even scream at people.”

“As do generals and artists and explorers. Of necessity.”

“Your book…”

“My book?”

Ercole looked down at the man’s pocket; the gilt-edged, leather-bound volume was just visible.