"Not out of line at all," she responded, pleased by his straightforward attitude. But she added, to let him know something about her, "I'm going to finish my hour. I've got about twenty minutes left. . . . Got to get back up on the horse, so to speak. How's that fit with your schedule?"

"Twenty minutes is perfect. I'll meet you at the stable."

"Good," Cheryl said. "Oh, I never asked: You ride English or Western?"

"Bareback mostly. I used to be a pro."

"Really? Where?"

"Believe it or not," he answered shyly, "I rode in the circus."

Chapter Fourteen

A faint ding resounded from Cooper's computer, indicating he'd received an email.

"A note from our friends on Ninth and Pennsylvania." He proceeded to decrypt the message from the FBI lab and a moment later he said, "The results from the oil. It's commercially available. Brand name Tack-Pure. Used to condition saddles, reins, leather feeding bags, equestrian-related products."

Horses . . .

Rhyme spun his Storm Arrow around and looked at the evidence board.

"No, no, no . . ."

"What's the matter?" Sachs asked.

"The manure on the Conjurer's shoes."

"What about it?"

"It's not from dogs. It's from horses! Look at the vegetation. What the hell was I thinking of? Dogs're carnivores. They don't eat grass and hay. . . . All right, let's think. The dirt and the mold and the other evidence placed him in Central Park. And the hairs . . . You know that area, the dog knoll? That's in the park too."

"It's right across the street," Sellitto pointed out. "Where everybody walks their dogs."

"Kara," he snapped, "does the Cirque Fantastique have horses?"

"No," she said. "No animal acts at all."

"Okay, that lets the circus out. . . . What else could he be up to? The dog knoll's right next to the bridle path in the park, right? It's a long shot but maybe he rides or has been checking out riders. One of them could be a target. Maybe not his next one but lets just go on the assumption that it is—since it's our only goddamn solid lead."

Sellitto said, "There's a stable someplace around here, isn't there?"

"I've seen it nearby," Sachs said. "It's in the eighties, I think."

"Find out," Rhyme called. "And get some people over there."

Sachs glanced at the clock. It was 1:35 P. M. "Well, we've got some time. Two and a half hours till the next victim."

"Good," Sellitto said. "I'll get surveillance teams set up in the park and around the stable. If they're in place by two-thirty that'll be plenty of time to spot him."

Then Rhyme noticed Kara frowning. "What is it?" he asked her.

"You know, I'm not sure you do have that much time."

"Why?"

"I was telling you about misdirection?"

"I remember."