THERE HAD BEEN a whole blessed week’s break while Judge Bendinger returned to physical rehab for his replaced knee. But the break was over. Bendinger was back. And Yuki now felt the tsunami effect of the whole freakin’ Junie Moon circus starting all over again, the out-of-control press, the pressure to win.

  At nine o’clock sharp, court was called into session.

  And the defense began to put on its case.

  L. Diana Davis didn’t look up as her first witness came through the gate, passing so close she must have felt a breeze as his herringbone jacket nearly grazed her arm. Yuki saw Davis lean in and speak behind her hand to her client, all the while panning the gallery with her eyes. The TV cameras were running, and the reporters were packed in the rows at the back of the room.

  Davis smiled.

  Yuki whispered to Len Parisi, “There’s no place Davis would rather be. Nobody she’d rather defend.”

  Red Dog smiled. “That beast is inside you, too, Yuki. Learn to love it.”

  Yuki watched Davis pat her client’s hand as Lieutenant Charles Clapper, head of CSU, was sworn in. Then Davis stood and greeted her witness.

  “Lieutenant Clapper, how long have you been head of the San Francisco Crime Scene Unit?”

  “Fifteen years.”

  “And what did you do before that?”

  “I started with the San Diego PD right outta school, worked vice for five years, homicide for five. Then I joined the Las Vegas CSU before moving to San Francisco and joining the CSU here.”

  “In fact, you’ve written books on trace evidence, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I’ve done a couple of books.”

  “You appear on TV a few times a week, don’t you? Sometimes even more times than me,” Davis said, smiling widely, getting the laugh she wanted from the gallery.

  “I don’t know about that,” Clapper said, smiling too.

  “Very good. And how many homicides have you investigated in the last twenty-five years, Lieutenant?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Take a wild guess.”

  “A wild guess? Maybe a............