Eden nodded. “Yeah. It’s a transcript of a phone call on their homicide tip line the day after the killing. Caller says on the night of the Avelos homicide her boyfriend came home and beat her. Then he forced her facedown on their bed and used a knife to cut her lower back. The call was anonymous, and the Fresno investigators weren’t able to track it. Probably a prepaid phone. I’m still looking for something in the transcript to make an ID.”

“How about Elise Durand?” Mahler asked. “What’re we missing?”

Rivas pointed to the timeline. “We’ve still got a huge hole in the sequence. Security camera at the victim’s office shows her leaving the building, without her car, at 5:40 p.m.”

“Then comes the huge hole,” said Coyle.

“Yeah. What we know is, eleven hours later, at 4:02 a.m., the surveillance video at the Violetti Gate shows a hooded figure dismantling the lock on the gate. Then, according to the timestamps on Tyndale’s photos, the three men carry the victim’s body to the bench from 4:09 to 4:18 a.m. The video shows the car driving out of the gate at 4:23 a.m.”

Coyle raised his hand like a kid at school. “We do know a few other things. In the missing eleven hours, according to the autopsy, the victim eats an expensive meal and swallows a shitload of OxyContin and quetiapine. She fires a gun, someone strangles her, she cuts open the back of her head, and she’s wrapped in a red blanket. All in a location we haven’t identified. In the company of a person or people we haven’t identified.”

Mahler stood in the center of the room. “Eden and I are going to talk to Benjamin Thackrey this morning. We should know more after that.”

Holland pointed to the whiteboard. “It looks like we also know our victim ends up in the trunk of a vintage Mercedes, which may or may not be owned by someone named Victor Banerjee, who may or may not live in San Francisco.”

“Speaking of Victor Banerjee,” Coyle said, “I did some searching online and found pretty much nothing. Which is strange, right? With social media and online everything, it’s not easy to disappear. If I run a search on any of you on Facebook or a few other sites, I’ll find something.”

Holland laughed. “Some of us more than others.”

“So what’s it mean?” Rivas asked. “This guy’s not online?”

“I think,” Coyle said, “it means Mr. Banerjee wants to be invisible and has the technical expertise to do it. The only thing I found was a three-year-old newsletter for a Muay Thai dojo in Oakland, which lists V. Banerjee as a competitor.”

“What the fuck’s Muay Thai?” Holland asked.

“Chinese martial art. Close combat. Short, quick punches. Leg-kicks below the waist. Think Bruce Lee.”