“Where’s the Dancer?”

“In SD.”

Special Detention was a little-known facility in the Criminal Courts Building. Rhyme had never seen the place—few cops had—but in thirty-five years no one had ever broken out of it.

“Coped his talons pretty good,” Percey Clay had said when Rhyme told her this. Which means, she explained, the filing down of a hunting falcon’s claws.

Rhyme—given his special interest in the case—insisted on being informed about the Dancer’s tenure in SD. He’d heard from the guards that he’d been asking about windows in the facility, what floor they were on, what part of town the facility was located in.

“Do I smell a service station nearby?” he’d asked cryptically.

When he’d heard this, Rhyme had immediately called Lon Sellitto and asked him to call the head of the detention center and double the guard.

Amelia Sachs took another fortifying sip of wine, and whatever was coming was coming now.

She inhaled deeply then blurted, “Rhyme, you should go for it.” Another sip. “I wasn’t sure I was going to say that.”

“Beg pardon?”

“She’s right for you. It could be real good.”

They rarely had trouble looking at each other’s eyes. But, rough water ahead, Sachs looked down at the floor.

What was this all about?

When she glanced up and saw her words weren’t registering, she said, “I know how you feel about her. And she doesn’t admit it, but I know how she feels about you.”

“Who?”

“You know who. Percey Clay. You’re thinking she’s a widow, she’s not going to want someone in her life right now. But . . . You heard what Talbot said—Carney had a girlfriend. A woman in the office. Percey knew about it. They stayed together because they were friends. And because of the Company.”

“I never—”

“Go for it, Rhyme. Come on. I really mean that. You think it’d never work. But she doesn’t care about your situation. Hell, look at what she said the other day. She was right—you’re both real similar.”

There are times when you just need to lift your hands and let them flop into your lap in frustration. Rhyme settled for nestling his head in his luxurious down pillow. “Sachs, where on earth did you get this idea?”

“Oh, please. It’s so obvious. I’ve seen how you’ve been since she showed up. How you look at her. How obsessed you’ve been to save her. I know what’s going on.”

“What is going on?”

“She’s like Claire Trilling, the woman who left you a few years ago. That’s who you want.”

Oh . . . He nodded. So that’s it.

He smiled. Said, “Sure, Sachs, I have been thinking about Claire a lot the past few days. I lied when I said I hadn’t been.”

“Whenever you mentioned her I could tell you were still in love with her. I know that after the accident she never saw you again. I figured it was still an open book for you. Like me and Nick after he left me. You met Percey and she reminded you of Claire all over again. You realized that you could be with someone again. With her, I mean. Not . . . not with me. Hey, that’s life.”