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his face and, I mean, like our vics, he was unrecognizable. The boyfriend was out of his mind with grief, crying and saying he just wished the kid hadn’t spent so much time talking to that cute barman, that he would have been still alive if he had. Unbelievable.’

      ‘And remember that guy in Jersey who shot his boss?’ said Cullen. ‘He’d been arrested for beating the crap out of his boyfriend with a hammer a few years before that.’

      ‘But then, there’s no damage to the genitals with our vics,’ said Joe. He shrugged. ‘That usually goes along with it.’

      ‘Also – on the sex thing,’ said Rencher. ‘According to Lowry’s wife, the DVDs and whip and shit were just theirs, they liked to watch porn together, no big deal. She figures he was just going to watch some that night while she was gone.’

      ‘OK. But what else was left lying around the other scenes? What was in the bedrooms?’

      ‘There was a sexual element at the Aneto and Lowry scenes,’ said Blazkow.

      ‘Yeah, same for Ortis,’ said Bobby. ‘Toys, DVDs. Some of them were a little dusty, I remember, but they were out there on his bed. But there was also work papers, diaries, photos.’

      ‘Yeah, we got photos at Aneto’s too,’ said Danny.

      ‘There were love letters from Lowry’s ex-girlfriend by his bed.’

      ‘Oh, there were boxes of wax strips at Aneto’s,’ said Martinez.

      ‘And Preparation H at Ortis’s place,’ said Bobby.

      ‘It’s kind of like they were all looking for something,’ said Blazkow. ‘Pulling out drawers, looking through closets. Do you think maybe the perp was after something?’

      ‘Maybe,’ said Bobby. ‘Maybe they could have all ripped him off.’

      ‘Let’s take a look at what they’ve got in common,’ said Danny. ‘We got a Wall Street guy, an actor, a graphic designer …’

      ‘Faggoty jobs?’ said Martinez.

      ‘Yeah, I see that sensitivity training worked out well for you,’ said Danny.

      ‘It’s cool, I’m dating the guy who gave the talk,’ said Martinez.

      ‘You’re such a dickhead,’ said Danny.

      ‘What about success?’ said Blazkow, ignoring the interruption. They all nodded. He continued, ‘Perp could have a chip on his shoulder. All these guys were successful … at least, on the surface, like if you saw them on the street.’

      ‘The Wall Street guys are all about surface,’ said Danny. ‘Why else do they freak out so much when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles burying it in some ten-dollar whore? My neighbors, my clients, my wife …’

      ‘Yeah,’ said Bobby. ‘And then the pricks tell us they’re paying our salary, like that’s going to help their situation. How to win cops and influence whatever.’

      ‘OK – phone calls,’ said Joe. ‘All the vics made calls the night they died. Looks like while the perp was in their home. William Aneto calls his mother – she says it was just to say goodnight.’

      ‘Gary Ortis calls his former business partner just to say hi, he says, see how he was doing,’ said Bobby.

      ‘Hmm,’ said Joe. ‘Maybe not. We need to go talk to these people again. And how is he choosing the vics? Is he following them home? If so, from where? If not, how is he meeting them – online, at work, in a bar, at the gym …’

      ‘Why, though? Why is he killing them?’ said Blazkow.

      ‘It’s going to be a long night,’ said Danny.

      ‘What’s Denis Cullen’s story?’ said Joe later, when he was alone with Danny.

      ‘That’s Denis Cullen who the 10–13 benefit’s for next month. Well – it’s for his daughter. She’s got cancer, she’s only thirteen years old.’

      ‘Shit,’ said Joe. ‘I didn’t know that. I thought he’d just been through a divorce or something.’

      ‘Nah, they’re a real close family. He’s a good guy. When he’s not here, he’s at the hospital with his wife and daughter the whole time.’

      ‘When’s the benefit?’

      ‘A couple weeks at the Bay Ridge Manor. There’s a poster up on the board. It’s black tie.’

      ‘Black tie? What’s up with that?’

      Danny shrugged. ‘It’s terrible – it’s because they’re not sure, you know, if she’s going to pull through and you know, make her prom, her wedding … so it’s kind of a fancy affair for that.’

      ‘Jesus Christ, you think you have problems …’

      ‘I know.’

      Anna Lucchesi lay in bed as wide awake as she had been when she got in. She wanted so badly to sleep, but one part of her was listening out for Joe to come home, the other for Shaun. Over the past few months, she had been kept awake by a strange humming sound somewhere off in the distance, maybe out across the water. Tonight, at least it was quieter, just the sound of cars going by below on the Belt Parkway, a soothing sound that usually lulled her to sleep. She pulled the sheet tightly around her, up over her shoulder and high under her chin. Just as she settled, she heard the screech of a car pulling up outside the house. A door opened, then closed, then silence. No footsteps. Nothing. She leaned up on her elbow and listened. She looked at the clock. It was 4 a.m. After a minute, she heard faint electronic beeps from outside. Then a short five-note melody. Then more beeps. Shaun’s cell phone. She got up and walked over to the window when she pulled back the blinds, she saw a body lying on the street outside the gate. Her heart leaped. She looked closer and recognized Shaun’s sneakers. Her legs went weak. She grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand and dialled Joe’s number as she ran down the stairs.

      ‘Joe, Joe, get home now,’ she screamed. ‘Something’s happened to Shaun. He’s lying outside the house on the street.’ She hung up. Shaun was on his back with his eyes closed, his arms stretched out by his side.

      ‘Shaun,’ said Anna. ‘Shaun.’

      She crouched down beside him and put an ear to his chest. He was taking in deep guttural breaths and breathing out a rancid mix of garlic, cigarettes and alcohol.

      ‘Shaun,’ she hissed. ‘Wake up.’

      He frowned and rolled his head from side to side. Anna looked around to see if anyone was watching her in her pyjama bottoms and cami kneeling beside her drunk teenage son. Shaun’s eyes flickered open and he slowly turned to her, his head loose on his neck, his eyes wildly trying to focus, first on her, then randomly on either side of her.

      ‘Mom?’ he said finally.

      ‘Yes,’ she snapped.

      ‘Dad?’ he said.

      She reached down and grabbed his arm. ‘Get up. Into this house.’

      He wrenched his arm away. ‘Get off of me.’

      ‘Just get inside,’ said Anna. ‘It’s four o’clock in the morning.’

      He laughed.

      ‘It’s not funny.’

      ‘It is,’ he said. ‘C’mon, it is funny getting the time whenever you come home. Every kid gets the time when they come home. Like we care. Like it matters.’ He lifted his head off the concrete. ‘Am I on the sidewalk? Jesus Christ.’ He laughed again. ‘How the hell did I get here?’

      ‘Oh my God – how did you get here? You don’t know how you got here?’

      ‘Jesus Christ,’ he said, rolling onto his side, then dragging himself up onto his elbow. ‘I have no idea.’

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