Ridley hung back with the body. After a minute, he started giving directions to the techs.

Twenty minutes later, they had triangulated the body in high beams and the alley had taken on an unnatural brilliance. The crime scene people had set up a cordon of yellow tape, uniformed officers, black and white police cars, all of them conspiring to block unauthorized access to Maiden Lane, although due to the hour that wasn't yet much of an issue. Still, half a dozen police radios crackled. The first news team had arrived – a van and its crew from a local television station – and the negotiations over access to the scene between the perky, aggressive newscaster and the supervising sergeant tempted Glitsky to take out his gun and shoot somebody.

Instead, he accompanied Ridley Banks to the squad car and the officers who had discovered the body and apprehended the suspect. Two uniformed men exited the vehicle from both front doors at the same time, introducing themselves as Medrano and Petrie.

'That the shooter?' Glitsky asked, pointing to the backseat where the suspect sat propped against the side door, slumped over. 'I think I'll talk to him.'

The two officers exchanged a glance and a shrug. The older officer, Medrano, replied. 'You can try, sir. But he hasn't moved in an hour.'

'Drunk?'

'At least that and plenty of it.' The other uniform, Petrie, hesitated for an instant, then continued. 'Also appears to be mainlining something. Tracks up his arms. He's gonna need some detox time.'

Glitsky received this not entirely surprising news in silence. Then he nodded and walked around to the other side of the squad car, where the suspect leaned heavily against the door, and pulled it open quickly. With his hands cuffed behind him, the man fell sideways out onto the pavement. His feet stayed up in the car while his head hit the asphalt with a thick hollow sound. The man moaned once and rolled over onto his back.