"No sign of that," Mercer said.

Even the aches that Jean described could be consistent with consensual sexual activity if it was vigorous or prolonged-or infrequent, since she had told Selim she did not have a current boyfriend.

"Or he spiked their drinks to render them unconscious. nowhere without the toxicology," I said.

"How do you want to take it from here?"

My deputy, Sarah Brenner, had stayed behind at the DA's office to draft the search warrant with the facts Mercer provided to her, and she would take it before the judge who was sitting in night court to sign while we set the rest of the operation in motion.

"I'll work up the conversation for Jean to have with Selim," I said, "but I don't want her to make that call until your team is stationed outside the door of his apartment. His shift ends right around now and he should be home within the half hour. The minute Jean hangs up, I'll be on the phone to you and you'll go in with the warrant. If her questions raise his antennae, I don't want him to have a chance to clean house before you get there."

The glass-paneled door with the gold-and-black lettering- homicide-opened from within and Mike Chapman called out to Mercer Wallace. "Your witness is getting antsy in here. She wants to know when you and Coop are gonna move on the perp."

I walked farther down the hallway to greet Mike, whom I hadn't seen in several weeks. I smiled at the sight of him back in his natural habitat in the Homicide Squad-his thick shock of straight black hair, the long, lean body, his personal uniform of navy blazer and jeans. All that was missing was the infectious grin that had been good to bring me out of every dark situation and mood I'd faced in more than a decade that we had worked together.

"Hey, stranger. When did you come on?"

"Doing steady midnights. I'm not sleeping much, so I might as well have a place to hang out."