Inches away, on the street above her, someone was crouching and looking through the pry hole, down at her. For a moment nothing happened; then the eye narrowed, as if the person – a man, she sensed – squinted slightly. Maybe smiling, maybe troubled, maybe curious about why a flashlight beam was firing out of a manhole cover in SoHo.

She spun away, thinking he’d seat a pistol muzzle in the hole and start shooting. The Maglite plummeted as she grabbed the top rung with both hands to keep from falling.

‘Rhyme!’

‘What? What’s going on? You’re moving fast.’

‘There’s somebody on top of the manhole. Did you call Lon?’

‘Just. You think it’s the perp?’

‘Could be. Call Dispatch! Get somebody to Elizabeth Street now!’

‘I’m calling, Sachs.’

She pressed her hand against the bottom of the manhole and pushed. Once. Twice. All her strength.

The slab of iron rose a fraction of an inch. But no more.

Rhyme said, ‘I got Lon. He’s sending uniforms. Some ESU too. They’re on their way, getting close.’

‘I think he’s gone. I tried to open the cover, Rhyme. I couldn’t. Goddamn it. I couldn’t. I was looking right at him. Had to be the perp. Who else’d kneel down in the middle of the street on a day like this and look through a manhole cover?’

She tried once more, thinking maybe he’d been squatting on it and that’s what had prevented her from pushing it up. But, no, it was impossible to move with her one free hand.

Shit.

‘Sachs?’

‘Go ahead.’

Rhyme said, ‘An officer saw somebody at the manhole in a short dark-gray coat, stocking cap. He took off running. Disappeared into the crowd on Broadway. White male. Slim or medium build.’

‘Damn it!’ she muttered. ‘It was him! Why run otherwise? Have somebody pop the cover, Rhyme!’

‘Look, there’re plenty of people after him. Keep walking the grid. That’s our priority.’

Heart racing, she shoved a palm into the manhole cover once more. Convinced, unreasonably, that if she could get to the surface she could find him, even if the others couldn’t.

She pictured his eye. She saw the narrowing lid.

She believed the perp was laughing at her, taunting her because she hadn’t been able to open the cover.

What color was the iris? she wondered. Green, gray, hazel? She hadn’t thought to register the color. This lapse infuriated her.

‘One thing occurs to me.’ Rhyme brought her back to earth.

‘What’s that?’

‘We know that’s how he got into the tunnel – through the manhole. And that means he’d’ve rigged a work zone. He’d have cones and tape or a barricade of some kind. And that might show up on video.’

‘Or a witness might’ve seen.’

‘Well. Yes, maybe. For what that’s worth.’