THE ROOM ABOVE might have just crashed through our ceiling, the way the FBI man blinked. To his credit, Molinari didn't react one way or the other. He seemed ready to hear what I had to say.

"You are aware of what Gerhard Propp did for a living? And why he was in this country in the first place?" Special Agent Thompson asked.

"I'm aware," I answered.

"And where he was scheduled to present next week?"

"I was briefed," I said. "Just like you were."

Thompson aimed a smug smile toward Molinari. "So this

is some other homicidal maniac who just happens to be tar-

getting the G-8?" "Yeah," I said. "That's exactly what I think." Thompson laughed and flipped open his phone. He

started to punch in his speed dial.

Molinari held his arm. "I'd like to hear what the lieu-tenant has to say."

"Okay... The first thing is, this crime scene is com-pletely different from the others. One, this perp is probably male; that's clear from the force used to knock Propp to the ground. But that's not what I'm referring to. It's the physical condition of the body.

"The first two murders were detached." I pointed to the crime scene photo taped to the mirror. "This is emotional. Personal. Look at the cuts. The killer defaced the body. He used a handgun and a knife."

"You're saying there's a difference between blowing some-one up, or pouring Dra_ no down their throat, and this?" Thompson said.

"Have you ever pulled a trigger on the job, Special............