"They do, though not fully. Now we have privacy screens guests expect that, but again some enjoy being able to open the window a few inches in pretty weather. Or because they want to hear New York."

"Soundproofing?"

"Some, yes, but not what you'd find in newer or more expensive hotels. We've been family owned for five generations, and have tried to keep our little home-away-from-home affordable for visitors, especially families."

"Got it."

When they stepped out on ten, Eve could hear the murmur of someone's entertainment screen not offensive, just the mutter of it through the door of the room. Still, room security wasn't pitiful, and the corridor itself was as clean as the rest of the building.

She started to reach for her master, saw Whipple had his out, and let him unlock the room.

"Should I wait out here?"

"Just inside, shut the door."

The lights worked by switches another old-fashioned touch. Two beds, well made with white duvets, crisply cased pillows, a good-sized dresser, a bathroom so clean she could smell the lemon scent from the cleanser. And a small but efficient kitchen area with a glass-fronted cabinet holding various drinks, another holding snack food.

But the windows were what drew her across the room.

She unlocked one, lifted it. Four, maybe five inches, she judged.

Room enough.

She pulled over one of the two chairs, sat, took out her field glasses.

"Fucking bingo. I just know it."

She looked down at the carpet on the thin side, but clean. Took out microgoggles, studied the windowsill, shook her head.

"I'd like to speak with whoever cleaned the room."

"That would be Tasha. Excuse me, Lieutenant, you're looking toward Central Park, aren't you? With binoculars. The media reports... This is about what happened yesterday. About those poor people. On the skating rink."

"Keep it under your hat, Henry."

"Yes, yes, of course. But I believe I need to sit down, for just a moment. My legs." Pale, he dropped into the second chair.

"Don't go fainting on me." Pulling out her PPC, she did a run on Philip Carson, East Washington.

"No, no, I just need a moment. I've worked in hotels for twenty-three years. I've seen and heard and dealt with a great deal, as you might expect. But to think I may have... the person who did... But, he had a child!"

"Maybe. Is this the guy?"

Patting his chest, Henry studied the image on screen. "Oh, no, he was younger than this."

"How about this guy?"

"No, not that young. I'm sorry."

"Elimination's good." And that eliminated the two Philip Carsons in East Washington who were under eighty and over twenty. "Housekeeping, Henry."

He let out a long breath before pulling out a 'link, tapping a code. "Tasha, I need you in 1004, right away."

"If this room was used, I got really lucky, but luck can happen. Or I could be wrong. Do you have security feed from yesterday?"

"We- I'm sorry- We don't have it at all."

Another good reason to pick this location, she thought. "Can you describe the man and the kid?"

"Yes, yes." Some of his color came back. "I absolutely can do that. I'd be happy to do that."

"Okay, you're going to give me the basics in a minute, then I'm going to have you work with a police artist. Can you come to Central?"

"I I just need to have someone come in to take my shift."

"How about I send the artist to you?"

"Thank you. It would be helpful."

"You're helpful, Henry. I've got it," she said at the knock on the door. She opened it to a tiny blond woman with enormous blue eyes.

"Tasha, this is Lieutenant Dallas. She needs to ask you about the guests who were in this room."

"And the room after they left it."

"Okay, but I didn't actually see the guests. They had their privacy light on, so I didn't see them."

"What can you tell me about the room, after they checked out?"

"They were really neat. I could tell they'd used the kitchen, but they'd washed up after themselves. Most people don't. I still washed everything, Mr. Henry. And they used the honor bar, so I replaced everything."

"The rug, over here by the window. Did you notice anything?"

"Now, it's funny you should ask. I could see they must've brought over the chairs and sat there by the window. You could see the, you know, dents in the rug. And there were a couple other dents. I think maybe they had like a little telescope, and sat there looking at the city. People do that."

"Oh my," Henry murmured. "Oh my."

"I vacuumed up really good, Mr. Henry."

"I know you did, dear. The room is spotless, as always when you turn one."

"What did you do with the trash? They must've left some trash."

"Oh, that goes straight into the recycler."

"Sheets, towels?"

"Right to Laundry."

"I bet you scrubbed down the bathroom, every surface."

"Oh, yes, ma'am. We sanitize."

"Lieutenant," Eve corrected absently. "You wiped down the dresser, the counters, nightstand?"

"Oh, sure. Clean and comfortable. It's hotel policy."

"Light switches?"

"Sanitized."

"Henry, I'm going to want sweepers the crime scene unit to go over the room. Just in case. Thanks," she said to Tasha, opening the door to nudge her out. "Okay, Henry." Eve pulled over the chair so she could sit across from him. "What did these two look like? Every detail you can remember, including what they wore."

Satisfied she'd squeezed everything she could out of him, Eve sent Henry on his way, pulled out her 'link.

"Hey." Peabody's face pink-cheeked filled the screen. "Finished at the college. I'll write that up, but there's nothing so far. I'm on my way to the first building on First. Nothing on York I could find."

"That's because I found it on Second. Manhattan East Hotel, room 1004. Let Jenkinson and Reineke know."

"You found the nest? Are you sure?"

"Would I be calling you off otherwise? Head to Second, meet me here. Save the questions," Eve added before Peabody could ask another. She ended transmission, ordered the sweepers, contacted Detective Yancy, the police artist, then tagged Lowenbaum.

"That's some luck you got, Dallas. You oughta be playing the horses."

"You're going to want to see this, Lowenbaum, and I'm going to want you to verify I'm not talking out of my ass when I say the right shooter could've made the strikes from here."

"I'm on my way."

"Bring the laser rifle you figure with you, and a bipod."

"Already on the list."

After shoving the 'link back in her pocket, Eve wandered the room.

On the small side, she thought, but more than adequate.

Had to scout the room at least once before, alone most likely. Not with the partner. Had to be sure it could be done, and this was the place to do it.

Quiet hotel, no cams, but solid security on the guest room doors. Nobody's going to stroll in unexpectedly. Just a guy and his teenage kid traveling to New York who pays attention?

Henry Whipple, she thought and yeah, that was some luck.

Book the room bogus ID, but the card used to register has to pass hotel scan, so it's good bogus. Carry your own bags, come up, lock the door, put on the privacy light, then - She kept walking through it as she moved to the door to answer the knock, let in a slightly out-of-breath Peabody.

"How did you -"

"Front desk clerk who pays attention. Suspect was traveling with what Henry front desk believed was his minor child teenage type. Not sure on gender. ID's bogus, but we'll push on it deeper. Philip Carson, East Washington. Requested this room specifically."

Eve pulled out her field glasses. "Have a look."

Peabody moved to the window, looked out. "Wow, it's a really long way, but yeah, it's a good view of the rink."

"Housekeeper's sanitized the works, but she noticed little dents in the carpet by the window, like a chair and a bipod would make."

"If this is it, they had to have been here before, had to know they'd have the shot."

"Henry thought the adult male looked familiar. And we've got a description Yancy's heading in to work with him. Caucasian male, late forties, early fifties, about six feet, on the thin side at about one-sixty, square jaw, short medium-brown hair. Not sure on eye color, but Henry thinks light blue, green, gray. And maybe he had a cold, or was getting over something. He looked drawn, was the word. And his eyes looked tired. Wearing a black parka, black ski cap, jeans. Carrying a large metal briefcase and a midsized black rolly."

"That's a lot. If Henry's accurate, that's a lot."

"There's more. The younger suspect, mixed race, medium complexion Henry claims beautiful skin there green eyes, black hair in short dreads, about five-five, about a hundred and twenty. Dark green, knee-length coat, green-and-black-striped cap. He said no older than sixteen, but that may be the height, the build, and the assumption this was the adult suspect's offspring."

"And if it is." Peabody handed the field glasses back to Eve. "Well, Jesus."

"We can't verify that yet. They booked this room, checked in early evening, carried their own bags up, locked the door, engaged the privacy light. They took some drinks and snacks. One of them might have gone out for food no cams in this place or they may have brought in what they wanted. Housekeeper says they were neat cleaned up after themselves."

"Wiped the place down, you can bet."

"You can bet," Eve agreed. "But efficient housekeeping took care of that anyway. I have sweepers on the way in case, but I don't expect to find anything. They left about ten minutes after the strikes, claiming family emergency, as they were booked through last night."

"In case they missed the target, and to give them into the afternoon."

"They also booked the room over a week ago, so that takes the third vic out of target specific. Add this: They come in, set up. The rink was open, but they waited, spent the night, spent the morning before making the strikes."

"Okay, yeah, why not finish it? The rink's a popular spot at night, and well lit. People panic more at night, right? If that's the only motive, hit at night. But they spent hours in this room. It leans more toward one of the victims being a target."

"Eat some snacks, maybe watch some screen. Sit there, looking through the scope, thinking about all the people you could end from your perch. The ones walking home, going out to dinner, riding in the back of a cab? They owe their lives to you. That makes you feel powerful."

Walking back to the window, Eve looked out, hands in her pockets. "They're alive because you allowed them to live. And they're all as clueless as ants on a hill. They don't know all you have to do is step on them. You spent a long time in the night sitting here, thinking about that. Imagining. Anticipating."

"Which one?"

"The younger. Or if not the younger, it will be."

"Why?"

"What's the point otherwise? Henry? He's solid, and he's got a sharp eye. I can buy the second suspect may be into the twenties, but no more than that. Henry wouldn't be that far off and we'll see what Yancy has to say when they work together. So why have the young one along? It's not for the fucking company. There's a purpose. Here's how it's done, kid, and next time it's yours to do. Or it's your time. Take your shot."

Hadn't that been the way between her and Feeney? Here's how it's done, kid. Now do it.

"Henry felt that father/child connection. Maybe that was because that's what they wanted to project. But that's often how it plays out with a trainer and a trainee, especially with that sort of age gap."

"It could go back to pros," Peabody suggested. "The older pro training the younger, related or not."

"Yeah, it could. Except when you look at the vics. Just not enough to gain. Michaelson was well-set, but not swimming in it. His practice will go to his godson and the godson was already coming into the practice. So far I'm not finding any patients who'd want him dead. His ex is remarried and they appear to have maintained civility. He had a good relationship with his daughter who'd benefit financially, but doesn't have any outstanding debt or anything that shows. It doesn't feel like money."

"Sex is always a good one."