Stefan knew this firsthand.

Now, that was a memory he cherished.

Shaky-hand.

He wiped sweat and put the tissue away.

Oh, Euterpe…Calm me down, please!

Then he saw Khaled’s fingers twitch several times. This was not, however, a sign of waking. He would be snoozing for some period of time. Stefan knew his drugs well. Crazy people are savvy pharmacists.

Stefan relaxed. He now had a task. He sat beside Khaled. He reached down and, on a whim, took the man’s hand. He clicked his own fingernails against Khaled’s.

Click, click…

Delicious.

From his pocket he took his recorder and undid the man’s shirt.

Now he turned the device on and pressed it against Khaled’s chest. The heartbeat was, of course, slow and soft, as with anyone in sleep, but because the room was so quiet the sound was captured clearly and distinctly.

He had the beat. Now he needed the melody. Scrolling through his library, he found one that practically begged to be the soundtrack of his next video.

Stefan could think of no other waltz that so perfectly blended music and death.

Chapter 47

About time,” Rhyme muttered.

The evidence from the most recent kidnapping had arrived and Ercole was assisting Beatrice in setting it out on the examination tables in the lab. Rhyme, Sachs and Thom were observing from the situation room.

“His shoe?” Rhyme asked. This discovery surprised, and pleased, him. Shoes are wonderful forensically; not only do they often offer distinctive tread marks to help link a perp to a scene, but the shoe itself can contain a treasure of DNA, fingerprints and, in running shoes like this, trace tucked into the cavities of the sole. Rhyme had once nailed a perp because of the precious way he tied his oxfords.

Sachs explained how the Composer had lost it in the struggle with the victim’s, Khaled’s, wife.

In a gloved hand, Ercole carried the shoe to Rhyme. “A Converse Con, in the proper size.”

Beatrice barked, “Why you have picked it up?”

He turned and glared at her. “I simply am showing it to Captain Rhyme. He had commented on it. It’s in an evidence bag. And I am wearing gloves.”

“But now we are needing to include another chain-of-custody entry! And everywhere a piece of evidence travels, there can be risk of contaminated.”

True. Rhyme lifted an eyebrow to Ercole, who sighed, set the shoe down on a table and signed the card Beatrice offered.

Dante Spiro and Massimo Rossi joined them.

Spiro cast a look Ercole’s way. “Now, Forestry Officer, it is safe to say we have the start of a pattern. Will you concede that?”

“Refugees.”

“Sì. That is his preferred target—in Italy, at least. We have three such victims.”

Rossi said, “The director of the camp is convinced that he is targeting asylum-seekers because he believes we will not be so diligent in pursuing the case. Although that is hardly true.” He waved at the charts.

“But,” Ercole said, “I am wondering…”