Emily Spencer was thin and light. Her breathing had almost stopped already. Her blood scarcely spurted at al.

"How much champagne did she actual y drink?" Sylvia asked as she arranged the woman's smal hands on her stomach.

She looked down at her bloody arms and went into the shower. Mac fol owed her.

They pul ed off the latex gloves. Careful y they soaped each other and the stiletto, rinsed themselves off, and left the shower running. They dried themselves with the hotel's towels, which they then stuffed into the top of Sylvia's backpack.

Then they got dressed and took out the Polaroid camera.

Sylvia looked at the bodies on the bed, hesitating, deciding if the look was right.

"What do you think about this?" she asked. "Does it work?"

Mac raised the camera. The brightness of the flash blinded them momentarily.

"Works pretty damn wel," he said. "Maybe the best one yet. Even better than Rome."

Sylvia opened the room's door with her elbow and they stepped out into the corridor. No security cameras, they'd made sure of that on the way up.

Mac pul ed his sleeve down over his fingers and hung the DO NOT DISTURB sign outside the door. The door closed with an almost inaudible click.

The sounds of the night faded into silence. The gentle patter of the shower 6 inside the room could just be heard above the hum of the ventilation system.

"Stairs or elevator?" Mac asked.

"Elevator," Sylvia said. "I'm tired. Murder is hard work, darling."

They waited until the doors had closed and the elevator was descending before they kissed.

"I love being on honeymoon with you," Sylvia said, and Mac smiled bril iantly.

Part One

Chapter 1

Thursday, June 10

Berlin, Germany

The view from the hotel room consisted of a scarred brick wal and three rubbish bins. It was probably stil daylight somewhere up above the al ey, because Jacob Kanon could make out a fat German rat having itself a good time in the bin farthest to the left.