Author's Apology:

Terribly sorry this took so long. Fresher orientation was a real rush and I apologize again for the extended delay. Thank you for your patience. Here's chapter 9, finally. Cheers.

Danny was stooped near the flattened area of earth, shining his flashlight around, eyes scanning hard for telltale evidence.

"It's the usual, Mac. No signs of a struggle, no blood."

Behind him, grass blades and dried leaves rustled beneath boots in an erratic tempo as the officers combed the area in a line.

"I bet the foliage is just killing those guys," he jerked a thumb behind him. "Our guy could've picked a more convenient spot – Harlem Meer, of all places."

"It's their job, Danny, leave them to it. They may get something."

"Well, wish them luck. We sure don't got much. The usual partials, yeah, but not much else."

"We look again," Mac flicked on his own Maglite, "We keep looking. I'm not sitting around to wait for the seventh kid to show up. Lindsay, get a sample."

- - - - - - - - - -

Hawkes strapped on his gloves.

"Alright, Sid, fill me in."

"Jennifer Forbes, age eight and a half."

Hawkes winced when Hammerback uncovered the body and indicated at the livid bruising with his pinky. The neck looked oddly bent at the front

"No points for guessing cause of death. Suffocation; someone strangled her with enough force to break her hyoid bone. The compression of the upper airway led to asphyxia – classic air choke. Crushed her larynx in the process too."

"Ah."

Sid glanced at him, as if expecting more. Hawkes returned the look.

"Nasty."

"Indeed." Hammerback rounded the table. "The bruise pattern's interesting though. It's not your average finger shapes wrapped from front or back. The regular bruising looks to mean he strangled her with a bar, or anything cylindrical. All the way across her throat right here."

Hawkes frowned when he leaned forward to look at her neck.
"Front or back attack?"

"I checked for bruises on other parts. She's got a couple around her stomach. I'd say front – pinned her down and shoved the bar against her throat, dug his knee in for traction..."

Sid rolled up his pant leg and tried to get his leg up onto table, but Hawkes stopped him before he tore something.

"I'll get pictures of those, Sid. Run it to the lab for comparisons."

"Bruising on the back of her neck too," he rolled down the cloth back over his shoe, "I've seen that happen when a guy gets himself into a bar arm chokehold."

"That's law enforcement technique. Or could he be military?"

"He could be anything, with his irregular kill methods. I've also found a white paint crust on her body – that's a new one. I'll send the results when I get them. Oh, and I'd better give you this before you go."

He handed an evidence bag to Hawkes, who studied the bag against the light.

"Got another one of these off this girl – in her nasal cavity this time. Hopefully it'd catch us a child murderer."

Hawkes merely nodded, staring at another blonde eyelash.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Jennifer Forbes, she's our latest." Flack paced around the seated man, watching him closely. "Strangled to death."

"Don't know any Jennifer Forbes." His eye quirked left, and Flack latched on.

"You know what they say about giveaways you look out for, to tell the liars from the genuine ones? The eyes, shifting to the left. Apparently, it's an involuntary movement when the person accesses the part of the brain responsible for imagination and fabrication."

The guy shifted again, in his seat this time.

"And about fidgeting as a sign of nervousness associated with giving false statements? Sweating too," he added when the man wiped his palm on his jeans.

"Don't know any Jennifer Forbes."

Flack stooped in front of him, wryly shaking his head.

"Why do I not believe you?"

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Mr. Moretti, we meet again."

"Would you believe the luck I'm having," The man lifted his eyes heavenward. "What did I do to deserve to go through this again?"

"What did I do to deserve to see you again?" Danny didn't bother hiding his smirk again. "You know a Stanley Williams?"

"He's my plumber. Last time I called him was just after my wife delivered. You can go ask him if you want."

"Nah, I'm good. So, you known him long?"

"Colleague at work introduced him to me few years ago. He does the job fine, so I give him my business and he fixes my pipe problems."

"Alright. What about Jennifer Forbes?"

"Don't know her, just like I don't know that other girl you dragged me in here to ask me about… Is that all? I have to go. My wife's gonna want to know why I've been home late so often."

"Tell her the truth: half the time you're at the station, and half the time in Morningside."

The glare would've melted ice, but Danny was unfazed.

"It's the best policy, Mr Moretti. Works at home as well as it works here. You sure you don't know the girl? Maybe you're better at faces."

"I don't need a picture!" He stood up abruptly. "And I don't need a punk like you throwing smartass remarks at me either."

"Sit down, Mr. Moretti, we're not done yet." Mac closed the door behind him.

Moretti heaved a frustrated sigh and flopped onto the chair, cursing under his breath. Mac nodded to Danny, who slowly unclenched his jaw and arched his back straight. Mac pulled up a chair and took a seat.

"We'll take it from the top."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Heard Mac rescued you from Moretti."

"Save it, Flack." Danny's usual good humor had dissipated by day's end, having spent the afternoon eliminating suspects. "I don't suppose you got anything off your guy either?"

"He's clean. Absolute bundle of nerves, but clean."

"Damn it."

"Keep at it, Messer. You've still got four more to work through – get to it. I'm gonna be getting coffee."

"Yeah," he mumbled, still analyzing his CODIS files when Flack left. Absorbed in the profiles, he hardly reacted when Lindsay took her usual spot opposite him.

"Hey."

"Mm."

"Trace found sand in the soil sample I bagged. We ran it through the system. It matches the dust that you and Mac got off that construction site."

He looked up briefly. "That still don't give us shit."

A shadow flickered over her face, but she steadied her voice. "We also found tyre tracks a short ways in from the road. 205mm treads and 16 inch rims on new wheels. I'm still running the prints. You want to swap?"

She braced herself for a curt reply and dismissal, and was rather surprised when Danny closed his folder with a flat snap.

"Ah, why not?"

She half-grinned as he passed her the files, and opened to where he tagged the profile page. Then her smile dropped, and her eyes went wide.

"Danny."

"Yeah," he stopped, halfway towards the door.

"These- these are the contacts you got off from the address book?"

"Yeah…" he took a few steps forward, perturbed, "What's wrong, Montana?"

"Edward Saul." She sat back, rather stunned. "That's the guy I spoke to in Racenstein."

"You've sure this is him?"

"I…" she looked around helplessly. "Yeah. I asked him about the PMI rope. He seemed real nice. I… it can't be him, do you think?"

Danny just shrugged.

TBC