They arrived at the mansion shortly before 8 a.m., and Nikki thought with grim anticipation of the lady of the house, who had already complained about their early appearance during their last visit.

It took a while for Harry Upton, still half asleep, to open the door. He was wearing sweatpants and a white V-neck T-shirt.

"What do you want again?" he growled angrily, running his hand over his face.

Mike imitated him, stroking his beard as if it were a greeting ritual.

"We want to talk to you about your evening yesterday and last night," Nikki explained, unmoved. 'May we come in?'

Wrinkles appeared on Upton's forehead as he silently cleared the entrance. 'Why do you want to know?' 'Did something happen?' Unfriendliness and tiredness had suddenly disappeared.

Only when they were sitting opposite each other did Mike say, "One of your colleagues was found dead this morning on the banks of the Charles River." He glanced over at Nikki, who understood. "Her name is Leila Decker."

Upton's facial features went awry, and the color seemed to drain from his skin within seconds. 'What?' It was just a breath.

"Where were you last night?"

"I..."

"He was here last night." Christine Boutroux stepped up to them. She was dressed as usual and with the same mask-like expression as during their previous encounters. 'Why do you want to know?'

Nikki and Mike stood up and nodded at her as she stood before them.

"A colleague of your husband's was killed last night," Nikki explained.

"And you're here to find out if my husband has an alibi." It wasn't a question but a statement delivered in a calm voice. "You think he must have had something to do with it after being lured into this trap. Wouldn't that be a bit too convenient? To put it another way: how stupid do you think he is?"

"Well, you at least immediately jumped into the breach for him and gave him an alibi before he could do it himself," Mike said with a frown.

One of her eyebrows rose a tiny bit. "Are you doubting my words?"

Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and left the room. Nikki watched her go and then turned back to Upton. "So you were at home all evening and during the night?"

"Yes... I..." Upton was entirely beside himself. But while Nikki was still wondering whether this was just because he had just learned of his colleague's death, Upton suddenly moved. He quickly looked to ensure his wife wasn't coming back, then pulled his smartphone out of his pocket. "Wait, I have to show you something." He tapped the screen several times before finally finding what he sought. "Here, take a look. I got this yesterday at just after 11 p.m." He turned the phone so the detectives could read his opened message.

Can we meet?

I'll be waiting at our bench.

You know what I mean

Leila

"Is this from Leila Decker?"

Upton turned off the phone and hastily put it away. 'Yes. I don't know what this is about; you must believe me.'

"Do you have or have you had something going on with Ms. Decker?" Nikki asked in a low voice, to which Upton shook his head violently.

"No, never. I told you, I have no idea why she sent me that message. I don't know what she means by 'our' bench either."

A noise made them all three turn around. Christine Boutroux was returning, followed by a young, Mediterranean-looking woman in her early twenties, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. "So, Luisa, now please tell the detectives from the BPD what you just told me."

All eyes turned to Luisa, who looked nervously around. 'Mr. Upton was at home last night. I saw that.' Her English was fluent, with a slight accent. "He had dinner with Mrs. Boutroux. They went to bed at midnight."

"Do you have a shared or separate bedroom?" Mike asked Harry Upton's wife.

"Separate bedrooms. But I would have heard if my husband had left the house. I'm a very light sleeper. Luisa, you can go." When he said this, Boutroux did not look at the young woman.

During the rest of the conversation, the still bewildered journalist explained that the murdered woman had had nothing to do with the tax evasion story he was investigating and that there were no other professional links between them except that they worked for the same newspaper, his wife sat silently by.

xxx

"I can't help myself." Mike's hands clenched around the steering wheel. 'I can't shake the feeling that both the mess in Martiny's apartment and the murder of Upton's colleague are connected to his research on the black money scandal.'

They were on their way to Maggie's.

"But Upton said that Leila Decker had nothing to do with his research," Nikki interjected, earning a pitying look in return.

"Yes, Harry Upton also said he didn't know Miriam Labo. And then he did, but only a little. And then a little more. So don't give me any explanations from Upton, Nikki."

"But a hit man would never spend hours torturing his victim unless --"

"Unless he wants to get some information out of that victim," he finished the sentence.

Which was true, but it still didn't convince Nikki. "I think we're dealing with a complete maniac who gets off on what he's doing to this woman."

Mike shrugged. "But one doesn't rule out the other. In any case, I want to talk to those bank guys again."

Before they reached the BPD, he received a call from the office. Thune gave him Leila Decker's address and informed him that the young woman had lived alone in Boston; her parents lived in Connecticut. The detectives there had been notified and would visit the parents.

xxx

"As I mentioned, most of the injuries were not fatal. But they were very painful." Maggie folded her hands on the desktop and looked at the two detectives. "Cause of death was a penetrating cardiac injury, in which both the anterior and posterior surfaces of the heart were penetrated. With a single-edged blade at least seven inches long. Perhaps a butcher knife." She let her words sink in for a moment before continuing, "In short, the perpetrator tortured her over about an hour or two before inflicting the fatal stab wound to the heart." She looked over at the woman's body lying on a chrome autopsy table in the next room. A Y-shaped cut sewn up with rough stitches stretched across the chest and abdomen. "You can only guess what this woman had to go through."

Mike took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. 'Was she raped?'

Maggie shook her head. "There are no signs of that. At least not in the classic sense. There are injuries in the area of the vagina, but they were all caused by a blade."

Nikki couldn't tear her eyes away from the dead woman. She must have been about the same age as Mike's sister, Kirsten. She couldn't help thinking that her sister-in-law could just as quickly be lying on the autopsy table if fate had willed it so that the maniac's path crossed with Kirsten's. Or if another maniac had hired him to kill Kirsten. She tried to push the thought aside and more or less succeeded, but the mere idea was enough to strengthen her resolve to catch this guy. She would do everything in her power...

"Nikki?"

Startled, she looked over at Mike. 'Yes?'

"What is it? Are you meditating?"

"No, I was thinking about what that woman has been through."

"Yes," was all Mike wanted or could say. Addressing his mother-in-law, he asked, "Would you be so kind as to send us the report as soon as possible?"

Maggie pursed her lips and nodded.

"Oh, and could you print a few pictures for me? Now?"

Maggie opened the folder before her, took out three or four pictures, and held them out to Mike with a grin. 'It's like I've known you for years.'

Nikki rolled her eyes and grinned broadly.

xxx

An hour later, they were again sitting in the bank lobby, waiting to be admitted to Martin Ackerman's office. Nikki had called ahead on her way there and learned that the other two employees whose names Harry Upton had mentioned were also present this time.

When they finally entered Ackerman's office, all three sat together, looking up at them.

"Ah, the detectives from the BPD." Ackerman stood up and pointed to the two chairs, so Mike and Nikki could sit opposite the three bankers. "I hope you understand that I have to ask you to hurry. Every minute the three of us sit here costs the bank a lot of money."

"The bank will survive it," Mike replied calmly as they sat down. 'If you would like to introduce us to your colleague first...'

Dr. Frederick Morrow, a small, stocky man with ash-blonde hair, was introduced to them by Ackerman as the head of internal auditing. Clinton Coffey, slim, tanned, with slicked-back black hair, was a good ten years younger than his two colleagues. He wore a perfectly tailored dark gray suit and was head of control.

"May we know the reason for our little meeting here?"

"Does the name Leila Decker mean anything to any of you?" Nikki watched the three men's faces carefully as they looked at each other. They shrugged but couldn't see anything suspicious.

"No, it's the first time I've heard the name, and my colleagues seem to feel the same way. Who is she?"

"A colleague of Harry Upton."

Ackerman let out an exasperated breath. "That Upton again with his crazy theories. I've said everything there is to say. Incidentally, we're thinking of suing Mr. Upton for defamation." He stood up and clapped his hands together. "That's that, then, and we can return to more important matters."

"It's not over yet," Mike growled, his expression dark. "Sit down. Please. I believe that the murder of a young woman is definitely one of the crucial topics."

Nikki thought that the consternation on Ackerman's face not only seemed exaggerated but was also poorly acted. Even if the manager had nothing to do with the woman's death, he wasn't really interested in it.

Slowly, Ackerman sank back into his chair. "Is it that colleague of Mr. Upton? Was she murdered?"

"Yes."

"And what do you think we have to do with it?" Clinton Coffey spoke up for the first time.

"Nobody said you had anything to do with it," Nikki replied matter-of-factly. "We just want to ask you a few questions."

With a laborious movement, Mike fumbled with the inside of his jacket and then pulled out the pictures he had received from Maggie. After a quick glance at them, he took the center picture and placed it on the low table so the three bankers could see it. "This is Leila Decker. I'll ask you again: Do you know this woman?"

The three stared at the picture, which showed the dead woman's head and neck and ended just before the circular holes where the nipples had been cut out. But the face, neck, and chest area with the deep cuts were no longer a pretty sight. Ackerman and Dr. Morrow looked at the picture with curiosity and disgust. On the other hand, their younger colleague turned his head away after a fleeting glance and looked out the window. He had turned pale, and Nikki noticed that Mike had seen it as well as she had.

"Yes," Ackerman looked up from the picture, 'that's terrible. But I don't know this woman and still don't understand what we have to do with it. I ask you again to come to the end.'

Nikki pursed her lips and nodded. 'We would like to talk to each of you individually.'

"Come on, that's going too far..."

"We can also send you a subpoena to come to the BPD," Mike interrupted. "That will take considerably longer. But of course, you can bring your corporate lawyer. You can bring him in now. Detective O'Laighin and I will wait."

He and Ackerman locked eyes as if they were going to wrestle each other to the ground by sheer force of will. Finally, Ackerman nodded. "All right. I'll go first. I'll give you two minutes." And to his colleagues, he said, "Would you mind waiting outside?"

"No, I want to start with Mr. Coffey," Nikki declared with a frown, leaving no doubt that they wouldn't discuss it.

Ackerman raised his hands. 'All right, then. I have to tell you that your behavior reminds me of bad TV crime shows.'

"Which you obviously watch," Mike summarized with a grin.

Nikki waited until the door had closed behind Ackerman and Morrow and then turned to Coffey, who was visibly uncomfortable. "Do you know the woman in the picture?"

"No, I certainly don't. Why are you asking me that again?"

"I noticed that you only took a quick glance at her face and then immediately looked away. There must be a reason for that."

Cooley's fingers were constantly moving, and he seemed extremely nervous. "I can't look at something like that. Dead people. Just imagining that that woman was murdered..."

"I can understand that. But I still had the feeling that there was something else. Maybe you knew Ms. Decker in your free time?"

"No, definitely not. I really don't know her."

Mike sat up straight in his chair. "That's an amazing observation. After all, the woman in the picture is dead and horribly mutilated. Her appearance might have changed quite a bit. And yet, after just a second of looking at the picture, you're sure you don't know her?"

"Yes."

Nikki could almost feel how much the man wished he could run away. She changed the subject. "What's it like in the bank? Does everyone know what the others are doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'll be honest with you, Mr. Coffey," Nikki ventured. "Your three names come up in connection with a... let's say legally not entirely above-board tax optimization method. In such a case, would each of you know what the other two are doing?"

Coffey's fingers intertwined. "But that's nonsense," he snapped. "That journalist made it up."

Nikki raised a hand in a placatory gesture. "That may be, but this is a murder investigation, so we have to consider all the possibilities." She leaned forward, grabbed the picture, and held it before Coffey. "This young woman was tortured for hours and then killed. There are connections through Harry Upton to what happened in this bank. Now take a good look at the picture and then tell me that you are sure your colleagues are not doing or have done something you don't know about."

For a brief moment, she felt that Coffey would crack and actually have something to tell them. But Coffey stood up abruptly and said, "I can't speak for my colleagues, and I certainly won't make any assumptions about them. That's more your job." With that, he turned and left the room.

"Nice try," Mike commented. Nikki nodded slowly.

"Yes, it was just a try. We can forget about the other two; we won't learn anything from them. Let's go. I think we're on the wrong track anyway."

"How can you be so sure? After what we've just seen and heard?"

Nikki stood up and pulled down the corners of her mouth. "Instinct."