Mahler stood in front of the whiteboard. “All right. Let’s find some facts. Martin, talk to the parks people and get the video feed from the surveillance camera at the Violetti Gate. We should also have something by now from the uniforms’ canvass of the campers and neighbors. Steve, talk to whoever’s in charge of that. Daniel, take a look in ViCAP for any similar homicides like this in the Bay Area. Check Missing Persons, and look into that famous memory of yours and tell me if any of the guys we’ve picked up in the last couple of years for assault and sexual offenses might be good for this.”

“What about Partridge?” Rivas asked.

“His lawyer’s bringing him in at one thirty.” Mahler looked around the room. His gaze settled on Eden. “Eden and I’ll talk to him. Let’s meet back here at five, and I want to hear something new.”

(ii)

(TUESDAY, 11:38 A.M.)

Police Chief William Truro stood behind the desk with his back to Mahler, looking out the broad windows that wrapped around his corner office. He wore a stiffly pressed white shirt and dress trousers. The window faced a busy intersection, and the chief appeared to be watching something on the street below. Only three months into the job, Truro was young for a chief, ten years younger than Mahler. He had been recruited from a department in a Seattle suburb.

Mahler shifted in his chair and waited.

Truro, still referred to as the “new chief,” was a departure from his predecessor—an ex-Army MP, up-from-the-ranks officer named Frank Stone. Stone’s hair had been chopped in a buzz cut, and his face had held a permanent flush of frustration. He had been a desk pounder with the same loud bark in a public auditorium as beside you in the hallway. By contrast, Truro was contained, cautious, and given to long pauses in conversation.

Mahler checked his watch. How long was he supposed to wait? He was wasting time. He felt again the churning sensation that awakened him in the night. Adrenaline charged through his veins. If he had any doubt about his nighttime experience, he was sure now. His doctor called the sensation pre-migrainous excitement, an early symptom of an impending migraine. You’ll get to know the signs, the doctor said. Once you do, that’s a signal you’re about to have another one.

“Still getting those headaches, Eddie?” Truro asked without turning.

“Sometimes,” Mahler said, not wanting to get caught up in a conversation about headaches when he knew the meeting’s agenda.

“I’ve never had one, but I understand the pain is tremendous. Jen says you should try magnesium supplements. Apparently magnesium relaxes the blood vessels in the brain.”