He looked into the dark. Ahead of him were still, black shapes. He stared into them, looking for something out of place, moving. A faint light shone through a space in the curtains and played along the floor, climbing the bookshelf.

All the while the music softly played. Short piano notes, the same repeated phrase. Had the intruder turned it on? Had he, Mahler, inadvertently set a timer in the sound system?

The music grew louder, first filling the room, then blaring, until it vibrated the speakers. Mahler felt the piano keys hammering inside his head. The sound swelled the pain of the migraine throbbing behind his eyes. He braced himself against the wall to keep from falling to the floor.

From the back of the house came another sound, something moving. Mahler pulled away from the wall and raced across the living room, through the dining room and kitchen. At the back entrance, he found the door open.

Mahler looked into the dark backyard and heard someone running ahead of him toward the woods. As he jumped down the back steps, he saw Eden sprinting across the lawn. He wanted to call to her to take cover as she ran, but she was gone in the darkness. Running after her, he stopped at the edge of the woods and took cover against the trunk of an oak. Without his shoes, his socks were wet and cold. Ahead someone crashed through the underbrush. Behind him the music still blared from the open door.

He turned away from the tree and began running through the woods, the headache pain weighing him down. He heard a car engine start at the top of the hill and knew that by the time he climbed the hillside, the car would be into the switchbacks rising through the neighborhood. He could call for a patrol car, but he did not have a description to give dispatch.

Eden appeared out of the darkness, breathing heavily. She bent over, bracing her hands on her knees. “One male… Tall, maybe six feet… Light-colored sedan… Couldn’t get the plate.”

She straightened up and fell awkwardly forward into Mahler. He caught her and let her head rest against his chest. For a moment they stood together while she caught her breath. Neither of them spoke. From the house, the music slowly faded. In the silence, he let her go, and they walked back through the darkness.

(ii)

(THURSDAY, 9:17 P.M.)

Entering Hyde’s, Mahler found Tom Woodhouse at the bar. The retired detective must have noticed him come in the door, but Woodhouse’s face gave nothing away.

When Mahler sat next to him, Woodhouse put down his drink. “You look even crappier than usual, Junior. Have a beer.”

“Can’t, old man. I’m out there saving the city.”