Wallace looked out the window at the bright, cold sky. “With the death, I think we’ve got to jump on this. Fast. Let’s get IAD involved.”

Internal Affairs would be the logical outfit to investigate any crimes involving police. But Sachs didn’t want that, at least not at this point. She’d turn the case over to them later, but not until she’d nailed the perps herself.

Flaherty touched the marbled pen once more then seemed to think better. Men can get away with all kinds of careless mannerisms; women can’t afford to, not at this level. With fingers tipped in perfectly manicured nails, the polish clear, Flaherty placed the pen in her top drawer. “No, not IAD.”

“Why not?” Wallace asked.

The inspector shook her head. “It’s too close to the One One Eight. Word could get back.”

Wallace nodded slowly. “If you think it’s best.”

“I do.”

But Sachs’s elation that Internal Affairs wasn’t going to take over her case didn’t last long. Flaherty added, “I’ll find somebody here to give it to. Somebody senior.”

Sachs hesitated only a moment. “I’d like to follow up on it, Inspector.”

Flaherty said, “You’re new. You’ve never handled anything internal.” So the inspector’d been doing her homework too. “These’re different sorts of cases.”

“I understand that. But I can handle it.” Sachs was thinking: I’m the one who broke the case. I’ve taken it this far. And it’s my first homicide. Goddamn it, don’t take it away from me.

“This isn’t just crime scene work.”

Calmly she said, “I’m lead investigator on the Creeley homicide. I’m not doing tech work.”

“Still, I think it’s best. . . . So. If you could get me all the case files, everything you have.”

Sachs was sitting forward, her index fingernail digging into her thumb. What could she do to keep the case?

It was then that the deputy mayor frowned. “Wait. Aren’t you the one who works with that ex-cop in the wheelchair?”

“Lincoln Rhyme. That’s right.”

He considered this for a moment then looked at Flaherty. “I say let her run with it, Marilyn.”

“Why?”

“She’s got a solid-gold reputation.”

“We don’t need a reputation. We need somebody with experience. No offense.”

“None taken,” Sachs replied evenly.

“These are very sensitive issues. Inflammatory.”

But Wallace liked his idea. “The mayor’d love it. She’s associated with Rhyme and he’s good press. And he’s civilian. People’ll look at it like she’s an independent investigator.”

People . . . meaning reporters, Sachs understood.

“I don’t want a big, messy investigation,” Flaherty said.

Sachs said quickly, “It won’t be. I’ve got only one officer working with me.”

“Who?”

“Out of Patrol. Ronald Pulaski. He’s a good man. Young but good.”

After a pause Flaherty asked, “How would you proceed?”

“Find out more about Creeley’s connection with the One One Eight and the St. James. And about his life—see if there might’ve been another reason to murder him. I want to talk to his business partner. Maybe there was a problem with clients or some work he was doing. And we need to find out more about the connection between Creeley and the drugs.”