"How did you manage this?" Sarndra shifted slightly in her seat trying to get more comfortable. "You call your commissioner and he calls the secretary of defense who calls our secretary of defense who calls our police commissioner?"

"Something like that." Mac stifled a yawn. She giggled.

"Am I keeping you awake?"

Mac started to smile but got interrupted by another yawn. She started to laugh and then choked a little as a yawn overtook her.

"Look who's talking." He reached over and slid their seats into a more reclined position. "We still have another ten hours in the air so I suggest we get some rest while we can."

"Before we land or before Danny wakes up?"

Mac looked across at the young CSI slumbering contentedly in the aisle seat.

"I don't think there's much chance of him waking before we land. He's pretty …" he trailed off as a warm weight settled against his shoulder, "tired." He brushed Sarndra's hair away from her face as gently as he could without waking her.

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Flack knocked on Mac's office door before entering.

"You planning on ousting the boss?"

Stella grinned from behind the desk.

"Who would you rather see sitting here?" she asked leaning forward and playfully batting her eyelashes. He fumbled with his notebook.

"The, err … the best person for the job. And speaking of which, there was a second car. A charcoal grey Lexus was dispatched by the embassy to pick up Jorgenia at the Verrazano at 6.45 am on the 11th. I'll give you three attempts to name the driver."

"Umm … Alexander Peyton?"

"The one and only."

"So we can link him to the laptop card but not to the accident. And we can place him in the second car but we can't put Danny in that car. We can place Danny and the professor at the East River Park but we can't put Peyton or the Lexus there. And because we can't prove Danny was in contact with Peyton we don't have grounds to search the Lexus." She shook her head. "I hope Mac's doing better than we are."

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"The yachties spotted the suitcase out by the yellow buoy you see in the water. They tried to pull it aboard but it was too heavy so they opened it. Saw some flesh and bloody clothing and closed it again. Then called us."

Mac looked around the wharf.

"Do you know how it got there?"

"Security tape from the port building shows it being thrown off the wharf about where you're standing and we traced your victim to his hotel room. Our guys have spent the past two days going over it. According to the hotel lobby tape your victim and another guy went up to the room and then, about two hours later, the second man left and returned with three others. They look like students. Those three left with the suitcase and they're seen again on the wharf tape. We think they may have been paid to get rid of the case and panicked when they found the body in it."

Mac nodded.

"They could have dumped it with the hope that it would sink in the Harbour. You got an I.D on them yet?"

Detective Lewis shook his head.

"We're still looking." He checked his watch. "The lab said they should have some results from the Vic's clothes around one. It should take us roughly half an hour to get there unless you'd rather stick around here for a while?"

"I thought your office was a few blocks away?" Danny looked confused.

"The police don't have their own crime lab here." Sarndra turned back from examining the wharf. "They sub-contract to the E.S.R, the institute of environmental science and research, in Mount Albert."

Detective Lewis nodded.

"With the exception of some palynology services, we sub-contract to Agriquality in Mt Wellington for those."

"So your scientists aren't police?"

"No they're not."

"So how much does that pay … just by comparison?"

Mac frowned.

"Danny!"

Danny pouted.

"I was just asking."

Sarndra grinned.

"The average wage here is about 25 to 30 thousand a year and a good forensic scientist can earn up to 120 thousand a year." Even Mac looked impressed. "But that's before tax and, believe me; you get taxed on everything here. Money going in the bank, money coming out of the bank and anything you spend it on. And on that kind of income the rate is something like 33 to 39 cents on the dollar?"

"So you earn 120 and only get to keep 80?"

"Kind of takes the shine off doesn't it?"

Mac shrugged.

"You'd still get paid more here than you would back home. Excuse me," he moved aside and pulled out his cell phone, "Taylor ... Hi Stella … no Danny wasn't bouncing off the wall of the plane. In fact he slept for most of the flight. How did the search go … did you … we're just heading there now. I'll call you when I know more." He climbed into the car. "The lab just confirmed it. The railing at East River matches the bruises on both New York victims. They want to know if we've linked Peyton to the scene yet."

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Lindsay found Stella in the conference room and handed her a file.

"We've got another name, Jochaim Boku. He was the driver involved in the accident. His prints just came in from the embassy and they match the prints we lifted from the railing at East River Park near the professor's body."

"We need to get this photo to Mac."

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"The case is generic. There's nothing on or in it to distinguish it from another of the same size and brand. The victim's clothes are the same. D.N.A comes back to him and there are no foreign fibres or other such trace."

"Are you suggesting he folded himself in the case?"

"More likely the perp used articles of the victim's clothing to shield himself from leaving trace and then took that clothing with him. Now the shoes tell a different story. For a start there are two distinctively different sizes. We have three size 10 pairs and one pair of size nine and a half. The nine and a half's are casual loafer style and the three size tens are Italian leather formals. One of the size tens also had these glass fragments embedded in the soles. They've been there a while but the unusual thing is that the glass is prescription lens glass and the victim didn't wear spectacles."

A young man in a lab coat approached.

"Detective Taylor?" he asked timidly.

"Yes."

"There's a fax for you at the reception desk. It's marked urgent."

Mac hardly had time to acknowledge the message and the assistant was gone, slipping back into the safe haven of the laboratory. They retraced their steps to the front desk.

"Jochaim Boku. Look familiar?" Mac handed the paper to Lewis.

"No. I'll circulate it anyway but that's not the guy on the tape."

Mac leaned across the desk and handed the lab report to the receptionist.

"Could you fax this to the number at the top of the page?"

She smiled.

"Of course, Sir."

"This should be grounds enough to search the Lexus."

Danny looked disappointed.

"Do we have to go home already?"

"Stella can handle it. And besides, we still don't know who killed Peyton or who threw you off the bridge."

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Stella ran her gloved hand across the shiny exterior of the sedan.

"It's almost a shame to spoil this finish."

Lindsay clunked the toolbox down on the concrete floor.

"Car like this always gets detailed after it's used so the evidence isn't going to stick its head up and say here I am."

Stella sighed.

"Let's do it!"