"So, our vic is Sara Darrah. 28 years old. Originally from NYC. Automechanic at a known chop shop downtown," Frost said from his media throne. He swivelled in his chair to point at the large screen before them. "Busted for a few B'n'Es and grand theft auto a few years back. Clean since then, but that doesn't mean she didn't get herself in too deep with something."

"Any family?" Jane asked, nursing her hangover with the large double shot in her hand.

"Dad did a nickel at Riker's before committing suicide when she was 18. Mother skipped town and left Sara and her little brother behind. The kid ended up on the wrong side of a bookie last year and they found him floating in the Hudson."

"Yikes. Happy family."

"Yeah, and that's not all," Frost said. He reached for his mouse and dragged a new file to the centre of the screen. With a double-click he opened the mugshot of a glaring older man. "Sara's maternal grandfather was James Conroy."

"Jimmy Conroy?" piped up Korsak. Jane turned to look at him. Korsak leaned back from his desk, a half-read folder propped open in his hand.

"You've heard of him?" she asked.

"Heard of him? Ohhh man," Korsak chuckled with delight. Jane raised one dark eyebrow quizzically. "Jimmy Conroy was a legend back in the day. Came over from Ireland during prohibition with a single dollar in his pocket and within two years he was running the largest bootlegging operation on the eastern seaboard. After prohibition ended he dabbled in all sorts of other ventures, but towards the end he was moving the most marijuana of anyone in New York. Jimmy Conroy had all sorts of people killed, but they could never pin anything on him. Man was a ghost."

"Well, while you reminisce about the 'good old days' Frost and I will be solving this present day murder," Jane said, standing up. Korsak pulled a face. "I'm going down to the morgue to see if Maura's found anything."

"Hurry back," Korsak said, sarcastically.

Jane entered the room to see Maura bent over Sara Darrah's body, her face inches from the mangled mess that had once been a nose. Maura had a pair of tweezers in her hand and was intently trying to pry a tiny something from the jagged ridge of flesh.

Jane didn't want to interrupt her, so she waited on the fringe of the room with her hands behind her back. Before long Maura straightened, stared for a second at whatever was clutched in the tweezers, before turning to place it in a plastic bottle. Jane approached as Maura screwed the lid closed.

"You know how much I hate to say 'I told you so', Jane," Maura commented, without even looking up.

"No. You love it," Jane replied. A laugh rasped from her throat. She leaned one tapering hip on the gurney that held Sara Darrah's body and folded her arms tight below her breasts.

"That's true. I do, don't I?" Maura grinned, fixing Jane with her gorgeous grey-brown eyes. Jane couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, you do. Now, what is it?"

Maura's amused grin morphed into a slightly smug one. She raised her penciled eyebrows. "That reddish brown substance at the crime scene?"

"The blood?" Jane asked.

"The not blood," Maura replied.

Jane's eyebrows also went up. "That wasn't blood?"

"I told you so. Oh, you're right. That does feel good."

Jane suppressed a smile. "Maura, what was it?"

Maura dodged around the gurney on her way to a nearby trestle table. She tugged a piece of paper free from the slight clutter of used bowls and tools.

"A mixture of water, corn syrup, red No. 40 food dye, flour, cornstarch and chocolate syrup," she read off the sheet.

"Chocolate syrup … wait, that was fake blood?" Jane asked.

"Correct," Maura said.

"So, not real blood. But still blood," Jane clarified.

"Well … figuratively speaking, yes ..." Maura replied, hesitantly. She knew where this was going.

Jane pointed her index finger at Maura. "Then it was still blood. So you don't get to say 'I told you so'," she crowed, triumphantly.

Maura sensed her victory slipping away. "No, come on. That's not fair, Jane."

"How is that not fair? I said it was blood, didn't I?"

"But it isn't blood."

"You just said it's blood. Fake blood. But still blood."

"Jane," Maura pouted.

Jane laughed. "Oh, come on. I'll buy you a drink after work. How does that sound?"

Maura watched her petulantly for a second. "Fine. But no beer."

"But I like beer."

"You said drink. You didn't say what kind of drink."

"Alright, alright. No beer," Jane laughed, pushing off the gurney and striding for the double doors. "I'll come down later and get you."

Jane spent her afternoon chasing down Sara Darrah's next of kin, finally locating an aunt in northern New York who agreed to make the journey the next day to Boston to identify her neice and answer a few questions. It was five fifteen exactly when she entered the morgue again.

"Oh, Maura. Come on," Jane said exasperatedly. Her friend was still in her lab coat, gloves and goggles. "I want to get out of here."

"Jane, oh! I'm sorry," Maura checked her watch. "Shoot. Uhm ..." she dropped the petri dish she was carrying onto a stainless steel trolley with a clatter. "Darn. Give me – give me just a minute, okay."

"Maura, no, don't rush," Jane called. But too late. Maura had already disappeared into her office.

They arrived at the Dirty Robber at 5:43pm. As a cop bar it was probably the only local watering hole in the area to be active at this time of day. Jane double-parked her unmarked Crown Vic outside the entrance and she and Maura headed inside.

They found their usual booth unoccupied and slid onto the familiar seats. Maura ordered a vintage white wine and Jane her usual beer.

"Jane, you said no beer," Maura protested.

"Hey, I was right about the blood thing. So you kinda owe me," Jane reasoned, taking a long hit. Maura didn't even bother arguing. Instead she launched into an update of what she had found so far on Sara Darrah's body.

"I found an unusual concentration of minerals in the dirt on Sara Darrah's clothing," she informed Jane, sipping her wine daintily. "Oh, that's good," she added, looking at the glass.

"What kind of minerals?" Jane asked, slouching in the booth and cradling her beer in both hands on the table.

"Notably iron ore, lead, mercury and zinc," Dr. Isles replied, taking another sip. "In concentrations much higher than would be expected in Massachusetts."

Jane's eyebrows shot up and she sat forward. "She was killed out of state?"

"Precisely."

"Can you guess where?"

Maura tsked her tongue. "Jane, I don't guess. I analyse. And I can tell you exactly where she was killed."

"Well, great. Case solved," Jane replied mockingly, collapsing back against the booth.

Maura gave her friend a disparaging look as Jane chuckled throatily and swigged back more of her beer.

"Oh, come on, Maura. I was kidding. Tell me. Please?"

"I'm not sure I should now. Maybe I should just let you guess."

"Seriously, Maur. I was joking. Come on, tell me."

"Nope."

"Maur, don't make me beg." Jane gave Maura her best puppy-dog impression, big dark eyes glittering above her pouty lower lip.

"You're the detective. Go detect."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Maura just gave her a smug smile and a quirky twitch of her shoulders.

"New York?"

Jane could empathise with Korsak's disbelieving tone. "New York City. Lower Manhattan to be exact."

"And she can tell all that from dirt?"

"Apparently."

Korsak shook his head. "I'll never understand science."

"That's alright, Korsak. Science doesn't understand you either," Jane quipped. Frost snorted and Korsak hoisted an affronted look onto his face.

"So what," Frost asked, "does NYPD take over from here?"

"No. Sara Darrah is a Boston citizen. Whatever she got into up there is still part of our case," Jane replied. In reality, she would be damned before she let NYPD take over.

"Alright. So, what's our next move, then?" Frost said.

Jane thought for a moment, chewing her lower lip while leaning casually on the back of her desk chair. "Frost, you check all that security footage. I want a car, a witness, anything. Korsak can help for a while. And contact NYPD. Let them know we're working a fresh body with ties to the city. Tell them what you need to, but not all that you have to. I'm going to go back down to the morgue and see if Maura found anything else. If you've got anything when I get back we can move from there. Break on three."

"Break," Korsak said without looking up. Jane grinned as she rolled from the room.