“If we are, how do you feel about that?” asked Jack.

“Same as you. Mixed feelings. I really want him to go to jail, but I want to catch these other guys before they do any more murders.” Laura saw Jack staring glumly down at his desk. She reached over and patted his hand and said, “Don’t worry, if ordered to divulge, I will refuse, same as you.”

“I’m not worried about you,” replied Jack. “You should know by now that I trust you implicitly.”

“Likewise, so what’s troubling you?”

“I was thinking of Amanda. Having met her and seen her picture … it kind of got to me.”

“Her picture?” asked Laura.

“Dyck showed me a photo taken of her immediately after her attack. Guess he thought it would prompt me to give him the name.”

“What a jerk.”

“He’s got a point, though,” said Jack. “We can’t let him strike again. We better be prepared to put some hours in and catch him the next time he goes to a park.”

“I’m all for that, but who knows how long it will take? You said yourself that we have probably scared him off for a month or two.”

“If he thinks we’re watching him, he will behave.”

“But he knows there’s no way we can watch him forever,” said Laura.

“I’m positive he will strike again,” said Jack bitterly. “It is all a question of when.”

“That would be the million-dollar question. Hopefully not until we are done investigating Oskar.”

“That would be nice.”

“Say we were done with Oskar. We still can’t spend the rest of our lives watching Virgil twenty-four-seven.”

“I know.” Jack gave Laura a hard look and said, “We won’t. Trust me on that.”

“Trust you?”

Jack nodded solemnly.

Jack was pulling into his garage when he saw Natasha walking down the sidewalk, holding hands with Mike and Steve. When he stepped from the car Natasha let go and both boys ran to meet him.

“Where were you?” asked Jack, after scooping a boy up in each arm and bouncing them.

“Mommy took us to the park,” said Steve.

“The park?” replied Jack, trying to sound enthused as the hair on the back of his neck tingled.

“I climbed the bars,” said Steve.

“You did? Well aren’t you the little spider monkey!”

The boys continued to chatter, but Jack tuned them out as they all went into the house. His initial fear for his family was quickly replaced with anger. Anger at a situation over which he had little control. He felt like he was sliding into a dark abyss. It was his decision … but was it the right decision and what would the future bring?

“Jack? Want to talk about it?” asked Natasha from the bedroom doorway.

“About what?” Jack replied automatically, trying to snap out of his reverie. He realized he was standing in the bedroom, staring at his pistol that he had placed in the dresser drawer. His memory of the last few minutes of greeting Natasha and walking inside were a blur.

“I said do you want to talk about it?” repeated Natasha. “I can tell that something bad has happened. Can you talk to me about it?”

Jack sighed. “I can give you the basic details.”

They sat on the bed and Jack told Natasha about how he and Laura turned a new informant and how the informant tried to prove his credibility by admitting to raping Amanda.

Natasha cringed, closing her eyes when she heard.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be unloading on to you.”

“I don’t like it because of how awful it is, but I like it less when you shut me out,” she replied. “At least I understand what is bugging you. We’re a family, we should be able to go to each other when we’re upset. I’ve come to you in the past.”

“What was worse was when I went to Amanda’s apartment block to check on the informant’s credibility, I had a chance encounter with her and her three-year-old daughter, Megan.”

“She has a daughter? You spoke to them?”

“Yes. Amanda wanted me to promise that I would catch the guy who attacked her. Christ, he was sitting in my car only a block away at the time.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing, I was too shook up. She saw that I was and thought it was because I really wanted to catch the guy. She was really compassionate toward me. Made me feel worse.”

“Well, she’s right that you’re upset. I bet you do want to nail the guy.”

“Nail him? I’d like to nail his balls to a stump and push him over backwards. I hate being in this position.”

“What does Rose think about it? Or does she know?”

“She knows,” replied Jack. He told Natasha about Dyck and the upcoming meeting on Monday morning with Assistant Commissioner Isaac.

“Well, thanks for telling me,” said Natasha.

“Thanks for listening,” said Jack, wondering if he felt better or worse for unloading on Natasha. Partly he felt weak that he couldn’t be psychologically strong enough to handle the situation and momentarily despised his insecurities. Another part told him that Natasha was his best friend and that he should be able to confide in her. He would be angry if the tables were turned and she hadn’t reached out to him. In his heart, he knew he would never survive in this line of work without her support.

“Now what are you thinking?” asked Natasha.

“About how much I love you and how lost I would be without you.”

“That sounds like a pat answer,” replied Natasha.

“It isn’t really. It’s straight from the heart. I respect your opinion.”

“Back at ya, big guy,” said Natasha, kissing Jack on the cheek.

Jack pulled away. Despite opening up to Natasha, he had not yet found the answer he was looking for. “Do you think I made the right decision? What would you have done?”

Natasha looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter what anyone else would have done. Your decision was made in good faith. Let’s hope you can learn to live with it.”

“It’s really eating away at me,” admitted Jack.

“You wouldn’t be human if it didn’t.”

“Guess I better make sure I catch the people behind these murders.”

“That might help, but I doubt it would ever completely ease your conscience.”

“I think you’re right about that.”

“You’re also really tired. You’ve hardly slept all week. Maybe by Monday morning you will feel a little more refreshed.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s —”

Jack’s cellphone rang and he quickly answered when he saw that it was Romanov.

“Bad news comrade,” said Romanov. “Your American is dead. It only happen, maybe ten minutes before I got to hotel.”

“What happened?”

“He go over balcony. Smash head on sidewalk. I think American name Ben Pike, grab him and throw him over.”

“Any witnesses?”

“People on sidewalk almost get hit, but say when look up … do not see anybodies.”

“Where is Ben Pike?”

“He in room for interview. I talk to him. He say Welsh commit suicide. He say Welsh tell him he upset because maybe he have disease from prostitute. Pike drink with Welsh before it happen and hear this. Pike say he talk to him and think everything okay and go back to his room.”

“I think Pike is lying.”

“Welsh have pictures of his wife and two kids on table in his room, beside empty vodka bottle. Maybe he depressed.”

“That is what Pike wants you to think.” Jack thought of the first victim, Paul Jennings. Another man murdered with a family left behind …

“Maybe,” replied Romanov. “But we have no evidence on Pike. I tell him somebody in next room hear him fight with Welsh. It is a lie, but I try to, how you say … shake Pike up. He no afraid. He say he no fight at all. He not even ask to talk to American embassy.”

“Did any witnesses hear Welsh yelling when he was falling? Eight floors is quite a height.”

“Nobody hear nothing until big splat.”

“Then he was probably dead or unconscious before he was thrown over.”