He came back on the line. “Monte Echia isn’t the target, Sachs. I should have known that!”

“Didn’t Stefan identify it right?”

“He did fine. But I didn’t pay attention to what Gianni told Fatima. He didn’t say he was at the target. He said he could see the target. He was standing there and looking it over.”

She explained this to Ercole, who grimaced. They caught Michelangelo’s attention and Sachs gestured him over. The man stalked closer and Ercole told him about the mistake.

He nodded and spoke into his microphone.

Sachs was staring over the vistas. “I can see the docks, Rhyme.”

He was on speaker and Spiro had heard. He said, “But, Detective, they are filled with security. I do not think she could get close.”

Ercole said, “We see the Partenope walkway and street. It is somewhat crowded.”

Then Sachs’s eyes slipped to the stony island in front of Via Partenope. “What’s that?”

“Castel dell’Ovo,” he answered. “A popular tourist attraction. And there are, as you can see, many restaurants and cafés.”

Spiro said abruptly, “That could be it. Gianni told Fatima to get behind a stone wall before the explosion. Yes, the castle has dozens of alcoves where she can hide.”

“And look!”

Two large buses were just then pulling up in front of the bridge that led to the island the castle was on. People in suits and elaborate dresses began to climb out. On the side were banners.

“What do they say?” Sachs asked Ercole.

“It’s publicity for a fashion event here. Some designer or clothing company.”

“And there would have been a press announcement, so Gianni would have learned it started at two o’clock.”

She told those in the Questura what they were looking at.

“Yes, yes, that has to be it!” Rossi said.

Sachs tugged Ercole’s arm. “Let’s go.” Into the headset she said, “We’re headed there now, Rhyme.”

She disconnected and they jogged to the Mégane, which she fired up and put into gear. Michelangelo and the tactical officers were jogging back to their vehicles.

Sachs skidded in a U-turn and sped down the switchbacks to the street beneath the mountain. She swerved onto the concrete, steered into the skid and floored the accelerator. Sachs was blustering her way through an intersection when she glanced in her rearview mirror, wondering how close Michelangelo was, when she saw a flash of yellow and orange flame.

“Ercole, look. Behind us. What happened?”

He turned as best he could and squinted. “Mamma mia! A fire. At the bottom of the road we just came down, there’s a car on fire. Sitting in the middle of the street.”

“Gianni.”

“He’s been watching us! He’s running guard for Fatima. Of course. He broke into a car, I’d guess, and rolled it into the road, then set it on fire.”

“To block the police. They’re trapped on the mountain now.”

Ercole was calling in this latest development.

On speaker she heard Rossi say he would get more officers and a fire brigade to the base of the mountain to the castle.