Rick stood outside his building, the newspaper in his hands whipping in the cold mid-morning wind. Still, it wasn't the weather that had his attention so much as the headline. 'DIAMOND ROBBERY AT THE WALDORF'. Then in slightly smaller type, 'Sheikh Demands Return Of Necklace – Police Baffled'.

"Are you baffled?" he asked as he opened the door of the car that drew up next to him.

Kate glared at the newspaper he waggled at her. "Baffled, no. Angry, yes."

"You know, it suits you. I like the way it makes your eyes sexy." He grinned at her and climbed in.

"Don't start."

"I was just saying –"

"Zip it." She gunned the engine and squealed away from the kerb, causing someone to toot their horn loud and long.

"That's probably illegal," Rick pointed out, barely managing to do up his seatbelt just in time to avoid being thrown forcibly across Kate's lap as she turned a corner. Although that might have been fun too.

"Sue me."

He folded his paper carefully then tossed it onto the back seat, smirking a little. If only the news crews had been flies on the wall after Kate had come back down from the Presidential Suite. Her boss was already calling, telling her to put everything else on hold until this was dealt with.

"The State Department's chewing the Mayor's ass," Captain Montgomery had said, his voice clear enough on the cellphone that Rick could hear, even though he was several feet away and it wasn't on speaker. Probably something to do with Kate holding it away from her ear so that she wasn't temporarily deaf. "He's chewing mine, and I'm not the only one who's going to have teeth marks."

"Sir, I have half a dozen case files on my desk, not to mention two fresh corpses that look like twins, and –"

"Are they connected to the theft?"

Kate took a deep breath and glanced at Rick, grinding out as if against her will, "It … looks like they might be."

"Then that's it. Everything else gets put on the back burner."

Kate hadn't kept the annoyance to herself, either. She'd told off the CSU guys for still dealing with the ballroom when the Sheikh's penthouse needed sweeping, Esposito for not yet getting access to all the CCTV footage, particularly for the cameras no-one was supposed to know about, Ryan for taking his own sweet time in getting back from delivering Lanie to the hospital – even though she did stop to ask how the ME was. Even Rick got it.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" she demanded. "Go away."

Rick, deciding discretion was the better part of needing to stand up to eat for a month, left the crime scene, Maggie in tow. They took a cab back to his place – Martha and Alexis having been driven home in the limo sometime before, at Maggie's insistence – where they sat up for a while, drinking hot chocolate and pondering the case, until Maggie fell asleep on his shoulder, and he followed soon after.

He'd woken that morning with a stiff neck, a blanket thrown over him, and a note pinned to it stating that his erstwhile sleeping companion had gone to bed, and that she wasn't to be disturbed unless it was an alien invasion. He presumed she was still asleep as he took the call from Kate inviting him, somewhat grudgingly, to join her in at the morgue.

Now she shot him a glare, then glanced over her shoulder at the paper on the back seat. "You want to litter somewhere, do it in your own car."

He smiled warmly. "No point us taking two cars, Kate. You know how hard it can be parking at the morgue. People die just to get a space."

"That's uncalled for."

"Accurate."

"Shallow."

"My middle name."

"Why do you do that?" she asked, wondering if she could beat a red light, then slamming her foot on the brake when she decided she couldn't. She turned to look at him.

"Do what?"

"Pretend. I've seen how you are with Alexis. You're not quite the crass, insensitive idiot you like to portray."

"Crass and insensitive mean the same thing," he pointed out.

"Just answer the question."

"I didn't realise there was one."

"You. Crass and – or – insensitive. Why the act?"

"Maybe it's not an act, Kate," he said, pulling his coat closer around him. Despite the heater being on, it was still icy in the car, although that might be the freezing air coming from her cold shoulder. "Maybe what I show my daughter is the lie."

"I doubt it."

"Then perhaps what you see is what you get." He pointed out of the windshield. "Light's green."

"I think no-one's ever said 'no' to you." The car moved off.

"You say no all the time." So had Maggie, he added silently. And that hadn't done me any harm at all.

Kate shook her head. "Not when it mattered. When you were just starting to have the money and the pull to do what you want, and get away with it. Nobody told you what you couldn't do. And because you're moderately charming and attractive, when you did get caught they let you go with a slap on the wrist."

"Only moderately charming and attractive?"

She ignored his interruption. "You need to grow up."

"Why? I have more fun than most of the grown ups I know."

"You're not a kid anymore."

Rick shook his head, and sighed contentedly. "Not sure I'd want to be. No. My college years were the best, at least on no money. And maybe you're right. Now I've got the zeroes in the bank, I can … indulge myself."

"And I do this for a living. I do it because I want to. Because –"

"Kate, I know."

His suddenly gentle voice had her stop, and she realised her hands were gripping the steering wheel way too tightly. "You're a grown man. With responsibilities."

Maybe he was embarrassed at showing he cared, because he was back to the jokes. "If you mean two failed marriages with accompanying spectacular divorce settlements, you're right."

"I think that underneath all that … crass insensitivity, maybe there's a decent man."

"You'll make me blush."

"Just don't waste it."

Rick squirmed slightly. It was all very well calling her on her idiosyncrasies, her little peccadilloes, but he wasn't happy about all this touchy feely stuff being discussed about himself. Mainly because he was sometimes afraid that, if someone scratched away his surface layer, there wouldn't be anything underneath at all. "Kate, there's no point in me growing up. I did that already, and have the scars to prove it. Okay, I have a beautiful, talented and surprisingly well-adjusted daughter out of it, but I guess even I can't fuck everything up."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but sensibly decided not to comment. At least, not on that particular conversation. "By the way," she said, negotiating a tricky overtake of a huge truck, "Merrick Canfield is out of the frame, at least for the second death. I called the Blue Cat club. He was on stage all night."

"That's it. Make my day," he grumbled. Then his eye was caught by a newspaper vendor's sign. "Sometimes I don't really understand people. Someone steals a few diamonds and it makes the headlines. The death of two girls, on the other hand, barely makes page two."

Kate shrugged. "That's because, as far as the papers are concerned, dead bodies are a dime a dozen. It's New York."

Rick didn't dignify that with an answer, just hunched down in his seat, his arms wrapped around his torso.

---

"I want a raise," Lanie Parish demanded as they walked into her lab. "Don't I look like I need a raise considering the number of bodies down here?" She indicated the other covered gurneys.

"You know I'd give you one if I could," Kate promised.

"But you can't."

"No."

"Pity." She nodded towards Rick. "Can he?"

"I can call the Commissioner," Rick suggested, smiling, having regained his bonhomie. "See if I can arrange something."

"He's serious, isn't he?" Lanie said, shaking her head.

"I don't think he's ever been serious in his life," Kate pointed out.

"I seriously get on your nerves," Rick said, the smile turning to a grin.

"Ignore him and maybe he'll go away," Kate advised.

"Never."

Kate turned back to her friend. "Are you okay by the way?" she asked. "What did the hospital say?"

"They took a load of blood – not very well, either," Lanie added. "I could've done better and I deal with dead people. But they said it was just to be on the safe side. We checked the glove when I got there, and it didn't spring a leak, so I think I'm okay." She held up her hands. "But I'll be double-gloving for a while."

"Good." Kate pulled her professional persona back on. "Did you get both autopsies done?"

Lanie nodded. "When I got back from the hospital I didn't feel like sleeping, so I came down here. It's amazing the amount of work I can get done that time of the morning."

"I know what you mean." Kate smiled slightly. "So, what can you tell me about the first vic?"

They all looked down at the body of the girl, her eyes thankfully closed.

"First, we have IDs. They just came through."

Kate didn't even have to look at Rick to know the expression on his face. Smug No. 5, probably with a side order of superior self-satisfaction. And she didn't care if they did mean the same thing. "Go on."

"This one's Amanda Tyler. Twenty years of age, reported missing by her grandfather."

"Cause of death?"

"Strangulation. I was right about the bruising on the neck, and I found pitichial haemorrhaging in the eyes. Whoever he was, he was strong."

"He?" Rick got in before Kate could.

"Big hands." Lanie put one of hers against the discolourations on Amanda's neck. "See?"

"And strong?" Kate asked quickly.

"He broke the hyoid bone like it was matchwood."

"Anything else?"

"These." Lanie lifted up one of Amanda's arms.

"Defensive wounds," Rick murmured, staring at the scratches and other marks.

"Mmn. Whatever was happening, she didn't like it."

"Any trace under her fingernails?" Kate wanted to know.

"She'd have scratched her attacker, but I didn't find anything." She shook her head. "Too many TV programmes about on forensics, and the perps start to know what we're looking for."

Kate exhaled. "Was she raped?"

"No. No sign of any semen, or indications someone used a condom. I'd say she died before he could get much further than taking off her clothes."

"All of them?"

"I'd say so. I think she was re-dressed." Lanie picked up an evidence bag, the black bra and pantie set inside. "These are going to the lab, but I can tell you this: her panties were inside out."

"So?" Rick almost took a step back at the look both women gave him. "What?"

"If a woman accidentally puts her underwear on the wrong way, they take them off again, do it right," Lanie explained patiently. "Hardly any women would leave them."

"Unless they were superstitious."

"What?" This time it was Kate who was perplexed.

"Some people think it's unlucky to take off something that's been put on inside out."

"I doubt her luck could have gotten much worse." Kate shook her head. "ToD?"

Lanie shrugged. "It's difficult to say for sure. The cold inhibited any insect activity, decomp wasn't very advanced … I'd say three days, max."

"Any way you can be more specific?"

"Once I get the test results back, perhaps."

"Anything else?"

"Well, I did find something on her skin inside the bra, and I've taken a sample. I'll let you know as soon as I do what it is." She turned to the next gurney. "And now on to contestant number two."

"You know, this is beyond creepy," Rick muttered, looking back at the first girl, feeling like he was suffering from double vision.

Kate pursed her lips. "For once, I think maybe I agree with you."

Lanie read from her medical report. "Michelle Tyler. Obviously the same age, but the cause of death isn't. Nowhere near." Reaching behind her she picked up another evidence bag. "This was strapped to her arm."

Kate and Rick peered at it, heads close together.

"So it is a mobile cellphone," Rick said, almost disappointed.

"Not quite. It's going to the techs, but I thought you'd like to see it first. Look." She turned the bag around.

It was a phone, but with some unusual alterations. Attached to the back was another, smaller contraption, maybe half the length of the original, held on with silver duct tape. A short stub of needle projected from the edge, inwards at an angle, and what Lanie said next confirmed their suspicions.

"It broke off, probably when she fell, and I took the rest out of her arm. There's a residue on it, and it's being analysed."

"So this is …" Kate prompted.

"Some kind of automatic hypodermic system. Leave your victim someplace, you go and grab a coffee, then call the phone. It activates and uses the battery to power the injector."

"So she was poisoned,"

"Oh, yes. Her body basically shut down. All the major organs failed, but it was her heart stopping that finally killed her."

"Clever," Rick mused.

Lanie beckoned to one of her assistants, who approached and took the evidence bag, leaving silently on rubber soled shoes. "We might get lucky and find some stray DNA on something, or maybe a hair inside the tape, but I'm not holding my breath."

"And I'd bet the phones are disposable," Kate said quietly. "Bought just for this purpose."

"I don't think anyone'd be taking that bet."

"Hmmn." Kate looked thoughtful. "Murder by remote."

"Good title for a book," Rick put in, then added, "But it does mean Canfield could have done it." A little voice inside his head wanted to know why he was being so stubborn over this, but he ignored it.

Kate didn't. "The linen closet's in constant use during any function. It was only a matter of time before someone found her. No, if she was the diversion, the person with the phone was in the hotel, and Canfield was on stage all evening." She looked up at Lanie. "Anything else?"

"Only that you might want to look into the MIT sweatshirt. It was four sizes too big for her, and brand new, still had the plastic loop for the price tag in it, so maybe your killer couldn't get her normal clothing on over his device. Apart from that, you're going to have to wait for the tox screens to come back."

"I could always call –" Rick began, then stopped as the breath whooshed from his body due to his midriff coming into contact with Kate's elbow.

---

Kate didn't speak for a long while, her mind playing over all the possibilities, seeing what fitted and what didn't, and for once Rick let her think. At least until they stepped out of the elevator onto their floor at the precinct.

"I still say we go and roust Canfield again," he suggested. "Hit him with the fact that his double bass case was used to dump a body, and see if he recognises one of the girls."

She turned on him, her grey eyes lit with internal fire. She kept her voice low so as not to attract attention, but her meaning was more than clear. "We can't go around accusing innocent citizens of murder. Not without proof. And certainly not when we know he wasn't in any position to have committed that murder."

"And Amanda Tyler? The first girl? Found in his case, which was so conveniently stolen from his dressing room. You don't think that's just a bit too much coincidence?"

"Of course I do. And I agree with you that there's something he's not telling us. But we do this right. Otherwise a good lawyer would call this harassment and get any case thrown out of court." She paused a microsecond. "You know those kind of lawyers, don't you? At least, I presume so. From your file."

"Are you planning on beating me up?" he asked, the corners of his lips lifting. "Only if you are, can I get it on tape? You know, for later."

She glared at him even harder, if that was possible, then turned in disgust, almost running into Esposito.

"What?" she demanded.

He glanced between the two of them, leaped to the right conclusion, and decided to stay out of the argument. He held out a file. "Our vics IDs."

Kate took a breath. "Lanie gave us the basics."

"There's a bit more in there, but not much."

"How come their prints are on file?" Rick wanted to know.

Esposito explained. "They ran into trouble on their eighteenth birthday."

"Didn't we all."

Kate ignored his aside, reading from the file. "According to this, they stole a car with some friends and went joy-riding. Her grandfather paid the fine, but they're in the system."

"One of them got caught with some weed a year later, but got off with a warning," Esposito added.

"Didn't we –" Rick stopped, seeing the look Kate had given him, and not wanting any more bruises that he might have to explain away. Instead he asked, "So are you going to talk to their grandfather?"

Kate nodded. "I have to."

"You want some moral support?"

She looked at him, her grey eyes calculating. "It won't be pretty."

"I know."

"If you come, it'll be a case of seen but not heard."

"Quiet as the grave."

She sighed at his inappropriate choice of words. "Then later today. But I have an interview to conduct first."

"Oh, she's here, by the way," Esposito said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"Good."

"Who?" Rick asked. "Kate? Who's here?"