He stacked the papers back up and went to the kitchen, where two plainclothes officers from the Burglary Unit were talking to a woman seated at the kitchen table. Schäfer didn’t know the officers’ names, but he had seen one of them a couple times before, a pale, redheaded young man. The other guy looked Middle Eastern and his stature was not dissimilar to that of a Dubai skyscraper, Schäfer thought. It hurt his back to even look at the man, who had to bend his neck to walk around the low-ceilinged attic apartment.

All three of them turned to look at Schäfer when he entered the room.

“Hello,” Schäfer said, stepping over to the table. He looked at the woman. “Are you the resident?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Erik Schäfer.” He held out his hand, and she shook it.

“Heloise Kaldan,” she said.

“Were you two the first ones here?” Schäfer asked, looking at his colleagues.

“Yes, we received the call at two thirty-two PM and arrived here at two forty-four PM, but there was no one in the apartment when we arrived,” the pale one said. “We called the NFC right after we talked to you, and one of their men has been here for half an hour now dusting for prints. It looks like he’s already had some luck.” The officer nodded contentedly.

“Yeah, well, let’s wait and see what he finds before we pop the champagne,” Schäfer said dryly. “You guys can pack it up. I’ll take it from here. Just make sure there’s a report on my desk before you go home tonight.”

“We can stay, if you’d like,” Dubai said. He glanced back and forth between Schäfer and the woman at the table. Schäfer got the sense that the officer’s eagerness to remain might be due to the woman’s white T-shirt, which was tight in all the right places, more than the investigative work per se.

“Why, that’s mighty chivalrous of you, but clear out.” Schäfer gave the officers a look that made them say their good-byes and exit the room.

“May I?” He pointed to the seat across from the woman.

“Of course.”

He pulled out the chair and sat down.

“I’m sure you’ve already told everything you know to Riggs and Murtaugh there.” He pointed toward the open front door, where he could hear the officers exchanging obscenities with the fingerprint tech on their way down the stairs.

The woman pressed her lips together to stifle a smile.

“But I’m afraid that if I’m to help you, you’re going to have to start at the beginning,” Schäfer said. “I understand that when my colleagues showed up, you asked to speak to me specifically?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re the lead investigator on the Mossing case.”

“The Mossing case?”

“Yes.”