"The search for our Ishmael is proving more difficult than we had hoped," Elizabeth noted as she walked along the rows of seats with her arms crossed behind her back. "We did hand over the sketch via the media, but the accompanying press release on Praetorius' murder deliberately avoids embellishments and details. After all, if there's one thing we don't need, it's a big media frenzy!"

"Then the sketch won't make the front pages either,"said Mike, who was busy taking notes.

"Ishmael reckons that wouldn't help us much either,"Elizabeth countered, patting Mike on the shoulder as she strolled past him.

"Maybe he's had facial surgery? Then no one could identify him,"the detective speculated.

The captain took a deep breath. "Yes, maybe,"she replied, "in case he lived in a South American telenovela before we met. But even then, he would have had scars from the operation. I would have noticed them."

"Should I post the picture on Facebook?"Nick suggested.

Elizabeth pulled the corners of her mouth down. "Why not? But it won't do much good."

"Nobody notices the constant searches on social media anymore,"Nikki agreed, fixing her mother with her gaze for a moment. "There are so many fakes that most users just click away in annoyance."

"And that's exactly why I'm going to catch this guy myself!"the captain cut short. "First thing in the morning, I'll contact the company where this limousine can be hired, only from them."

"You want to find the car?"Nick concluded with a furrowed brow.

"Exactly. His car is basically like a fingerprint. Every single vehicle is unique, not just because of the different trim levels but mainly because of the dashboard. It's clad in real wood, and no two pieces have the same grain."

"And you suspect that the rental company keeps pictures of the dashboards of the cars they rent?"Mardas interjected.

Elizabeth still needed to respond. Instead, she continued to stroll around the conference room, seemingly aimlessly. "This limousine is not exactly a mass product. The possible combinations of equipment variants are so complex that there are practically no two identical vehicles of this make in the world. And hardly any other limousine has as many extras as Ishmael's."She paused momentarily, just as long as it took her to pass directly behind Mardas as she walked through the room. Only then did she continue: "I'll get a list, check it with the registration office, and look at all the vehicles that come into question. Maybe I'll even recognize the wood grain on this occasion."

While Mardas showed no reaction to Elizabeth's comment, she continued to stroll through the room until she finally reached the wall on which images and texts were projected during the meeting. At the moment, there was a picture of the current crime scene. "Let's leave the car aside and turn our attention to Ishmael. He would have been about twenty years old at the time of McMillan's murder, maybe a few years younger. Would he have managed such a skillful disembowelment by then?"

"It wasn't that skillful back then. But it would have been possible if he was studying medicine,"Nikki interjected with a furrowed brow. "I did a bit of research into it."

There was a brief pause, which Elizabeth used to walk over to Nikki. "Dear Detective O'Laighin, please inform us of the results of this research."

Nikki ignored her mother's remark as a matter of course. "Both Dr. McMillan and Dr. Praetorius studied at the medical faculty in New York and earned their doctorates,"she began to report.

"So we've already got a hot lead,"Elizabeth commented, roaming the room again. "How many might have been trained there during that time?"

"How, Elizabeth, don't you know that?"Mardas interjected before turning to Nikki: "How far apart were they? Did they perhaps have the same supervisor?"

"McMillan left the faculty thirty years ago, Praetorius seventeen years ago. I don't know anything about their supervisors yet, but I can do some research."

Elizabeth looked at her wife, Maggie, who had already had her first laboratory analyses.

"What can I say,"the redhead began. "The murder happened in a doctor's surgery. Dozens of patients are treated there every day. And while the consultation room was overflowing with DNA, the operating room was practically sterile. We must first match all the fingerprints, hairs, and skin scales before comparing them with those back then. And even if we find a match, we're still far from finding the right person."

Elizabeth took note of the statement without comment. "What about witnesses?"she continued. "Has anyone spoken to Prartorius' receptionist yet?"

Mike pressed his lips together. "Can't, she's on vacation. I'm sure it's no coincidence."

"Of course not! Of all the possible explanations, coincidence is always the least likely. So, locate the woman as quickly as you can."Elizabeth now remembered the investigation sixteen years ago: "We first assumed that McMillan's murder had been committed in the heat of the moment. Perhaps Sergeant Mardas would like to tell us something about that?"

Mardas leaned forward and began to tell the story. "The victim was beaten to death with his desk lamp. All the other tools the killer used then were also in the office. So the murderer hadn't brought any of his tools with him, which made premeditation seem very unlikely."

"Now let's get down to the real story,"Elizabeth added with furrowed brows, spreading her arms with a theatrical gesture for Mardas to continue.

"While the manslaughter with the lamp looks like an act of passion, the rest of the production does not,"the sergeant continued promptly. "From a psychological point of view, it is practically inconceivable that a person who has just killed spontaneously on impulse would treat the corpse in this abstruse, thoughtful, and bestial manner. Especially as there is something else to consider."

"The time factor,"Elizabeth now interjected, pointing at Mike.

Nikki looked worriedly at her boyfriend and noticed he was also looking at her. She nodded encouragingly at him, and then Mike hesitantly began, "If it was an emotional reaction, why did the perpetrator stay at the crime scene for so long?"

"The young detectives! They can do it if they want to!"Elizabeth responded happily. "That's right: the perpetrator was alone with his doctor. Why? There's always someone else in a surgery like that. And if you meet your doctor in private, why would you do that in the surgery? Neither McMillan nor Praetorius had patients registered in their diaries for the time of the murders, and neither of them had a chip card from a health insurance company before the murders. Which doctor treats anonymously, alone and free of charge?"

"In any case, we know that Praetorius' murder, although perhaps not McMillan's, was premeditated,"Nikki interjected. "But again, the perpetrator only used tools he found in the victim's office or house."

Elizabeth grinned with satisfaction. "Go on,"she then asked her daughter.

"He prepared everything carefully and for a long time today so nothing could go wrong. The perpetrator certainly didn't want to risk ending up in his victim's house and suddenly not finding the props he needed to copy his old murder."

How many doctors practice in the houses they live in? And how many of them live alone in those houses? And how many of them have these stereotypical skeletons in their surgeries?"

"Did Praetorius only have to die because he fulfilled all the requirements that the perpetrator needed for his copy?"Mike pondered aloud.

"That question creates a wonderful task for you,"Elizabeth replied, beaming. "General practitioners or surgeons who have their practice live alone and practice in their own homes. There can't be that many of them, can there?"

Mike clapped his hands happily. "I'll get right on it! Ishmael could have visited several doctors to spy on the situation sometime before the crime. Perhaps as a patient."

Elizabeth looked at her smartwatch. "Enough talk, let's get going,"she decided. "We'll all get to work now, then get some more sleep, and tomorrow at 9 a.m., we'll sit together again."Elizabeth's gaze wandered around the room once more before she added in conclusion: "We're not dealing with a beginner here, people. And whoever this guy is, he's planned his every move. So be damn careful where you step. It could be a booby trap!"

xxx

"At least she's stayed true to herself. I can't imagine if she'd worked on herself,"Mardas said dryly after he and Nikki had retired to the café in the entrance hall of the BPD for a coffee.

Nick had informed him that Mardas would be assigned a temporary study room for his stay in Boston in the next few hours.

"Yes, she can be challenging,"Nikki admitted. "I suspect we all get on her nerves with our normal way of thinking."

"In a way, we're the small cars that drive in front of her on the highway and stop her from overtaking."

Nikki had to smile. The comparison amused her. "But how could she have always been like that? She didn't even run the meetings back then."

Mardas gave her a look that couldn't be misinterpreted. "Elizabeth leads every meeting, no matter what position she's assigned. Sure, she's an outstanding thinker, but her teamwork skills --"

"Elizabeth Rizzoli is my mother,"Nikki confessed now, and Marda's eyebrows shot up. "But how she's been acting for the last few years ... I've never seen her like this. Was she like this back then?"

Mardas shook his head firmly, poured the creamer into his coffee, stirred it, and took a big sip. Then he propped his elbows on the table and leaned closer to her. "You know, I've seen a lot of detectives in my career. Some were more talented than others. Some were idealists, and others were more interested in civil service. But I've never met anyone like Elizabeth before or since."

"Fortunately - or unfortunately?"Nikki asked.

Just a few hours earlier, she had excused her mother's quirky nature and defended her as part of a being who, although often uncomfortable, was good at heart. However, after the conversation with Nick, she preferred to let her conversation partner continue.

"It's not her fault,"Mardas continued. "It must be a burden to be like her."

"So clever?"

Mardas shrugged his shoulders before continuing in a confidential tone. "She's been going to support groups about it."

"What kind of support groups?"Nikki wondered.

He took a deep breath. "For gifted people. She could meet people like her there. It must be annoying if no one can follow you."

Nikki swallowed hard and licked her lips. She thought about how she had always perceived her mother as intelligent, but not above average, like her Aunt Katherine or stepmother Maggie. She couldn't imagine what an effort it must have been to pretend like that. "She never told us about that."

"It probably made Elizabeth uncomfortable. She was a lot younger back then and less set in her ways. I liked her for a long time."

"And what happened then?"

Nikki noticed that her counterpart seemed to enjoy talking about his time with Elizabeth, which had not wholly left him to this day.

"You know, I don't want to say much more about it now,"Mardas rebutted. "I'm only your guest, and it's not my place to talk about things she doesn't want to make public. Even if she is no longer overly close to my heart."

Nikki didn't want to admit defeat just yet. "What was my mother like regarding her quirks?"she asked Mardas, trying to draw Her out of her shell. "Did she ever talk to you about her past?"

"Now and then,"Mardas recalled. "I mean, her parents were both in law enforcement themselves. Did he ever tell you about her past or childhood?"

Nikki waved it off. "She doesn't like to talk about her past and childhood. It's hard to get anything out of her on that point."

Mardas looked at the young woman uneasily. "Maybe it's for the best,"he then said. "I'd rather leave the subject alone now, I don't want to --"

"Yes, you do,"Nikki disagreed emphatically. "My mother has just made quite a spectacle of herself in our meeting."

"All right,"he finally conceded. At the time, Elizabeth thought she had Asperger's syndrome.

The detective widened her eyes and leaned back in her chair with a jerk. "That's a developmental disorder, isn't it?"

Mardas licked his lips and nodded slowly. "A form of autism,"he said more quietly. "It wasn't as fashionable a diagnosis back then as today. Elizabeth suspected that this illness had caused her extraordinary abilities. She was still on patrol as an officer back then. We had dealt with each other a few times, and at some point, she confided in me at one of the few moments."

"But people with Asperger's are very antisocial. My mother has a sense of humor, has dated women, is sociable --"Nikki objected with a furrowed brow.

"Elizabeth also realized that she didn't have the syndrome,"Mardas reassured her. "But until then, she met a lot of weird guys in these sessions. Sometimes, she talked about it."

"And what was it like for her with women back then? I mean before --"she paused and furrowed her brows. "I mean before and after Sarah."

Mardas didn't answer immediately.

Nikki closed her eyes for a second and pressed her lips together. "That's none of my business."

"No, it's okay,"Mardas reassured her. "Elizabeth had a girlfriend before Sarah. Her name was Leonore, and they were inseparable. A sad story. And one of the main reasons I broke up with your mother back then."

"What was going on?"

"This is going too far."Mardas looked demonstratively past the young woman.

"You mean her one failure cost her her wife and mistress?"Nikki understood and gritted her teeth, her jaw muscles twitching incessantly.

"That was a tough time for Elizabeth. She changed, or rather, McMillan's murder changed my mother. I was still something of a mentor then, alongside Jane Rizzoli, although she was always much smarter than either of us. Sarah and Leonore did Elizabeth well. Elizabeth met Leonore shortly after Sarah's suicide, so she didn't betray Sarah in that sense. And she didn't tell you and your sister about her because everything was still too fresh, I mean --"

"Our other mother's suicide,"muttered the detective. "So you mean her one failure cost her another life partner?"

"That was a damn hard time for Elizabeth. She's changed, or rather, Sarah's suicide, and McMillan's murder changed her. I was still a mentor to her then, alongside Jane Rizzoli, although she was always much smarter than me or your grandmother. Leonore was good for her; they were made for each other. She didn't even seem to notice Elizabeth's quirks. But that one failure turned her into something that broke Leonore."

Nikki observed Mardas. His facial features suggested that he wasn't entirely dismissive of Elizabeth. She even thought she detected a note of sympathy, even if it was only very subtle. "Broken?"she asked.

"That's enough!"Mardas finally decided and got up from his chair with his coffee. "I've already told you far too much, and we still have a case to solve. You know, Dr. McMillan was very popular with us back then. His death was a tragedy."

Nikki thought it best not to probe any further for the time being. She would continue the conversation about her mother's past at a later date. She only had one last question. "Where did my mother even meet this Leonore back then?"

Mardas smiled with relief. "I can answer that question openly and honestly,"he confessed. "I don't know. They never told anyone."