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his wife said, he was too proud to play those games. In any case, at his age he wasn’t going to change. And he wasn’t ready to start taking shortcuts.
    He closed his eyes. He had a headache. If he thought his detractors were right, he’d leave the force. But they were wrong. He still had a lot to give. And he had to solve this case. He’d do whatever it took to put the rapist behind bars.
    It wouldn’t be easy. Most of the time, when the victim didn’t know her attacker, the sonofabitch was never caught. And a lot of incidents went unreported or were reported too late, after precious time had been lost. Throw in the fact that most rapes by strangers were carefully planned and the perps were typically clever and calculating, and it made it even harder to catch the bastards.
    He looked over the files of all the recent rapes in and around Tel Aviv. None of the attackers fit the description Adi had given. It was almost impossible to draw up the profile of a rapist on the basis of one incident. He could be a loner or a man who sought out human contact, he could have a record or be a first-time offender. But since sex crimes were an addiction, there was every chance he’d do it again. If that happened, they’d have more to go on. And if they were really lucky, he might make a mistake the next time. In Nachum’s experience, that’s how most rapists were caught. They let someone get a look at them. It’s their arrogance, their extreme narcissism, that often leads to their undoing.
    So he could sit back and wait until he raped another girl, until he made a mistake. That would probably be the best tactic. There were plenty of other unsolved crimes for him to work on, and the list just kept getting longer. Some of them were no less horrendous. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t give himself time or permission to wait for the next rape before he nailed the pervert. Just the thought of another girl suffering like that drove him on and kept him from putting it aside. His job was to prevent another rape. He was here to serve and protect, like the Americans said. Not to twiddle his thumbs and invent excuses. That wasn’t why he’d fought so hard for the gold shield.
    To an outside observer it might look like he wasn’t doing anything, just sitting and staring into space. But that’s how he worked—he turned it all over in his mind, reviewing the facts of the case in his head again and again. “You’re old-school,” his commander, Superintendent Moshe Navon, had said recently. He didn’t know if that was meant to be a compliment or not.
    His phone rang.
    “Eli . . . it’s Yaron Regev, Adi’s father,” a trembling voice said, followed by bitter sobbing. A cold sweat broke out on Nachum’s forehead at the sound of the man breaking down. Please, not that. The trauma of rape led some victims to commit acts of desperation. Adi was definitely the fragile type who was capable of such a thing. Her parents had coddled her all her life, given her whatever she wanted. She’d never been forced to cope with anything on her own. And then the rapist had shown up and extinguished her spark.
    “Yaron, what happened?” he asked, worried.
    The sobbing continued.
    “Is Adi okay?” He felt the bile rise up and form a ball in his throat.
    “I found him,” Yaron moaned. “I found the rapist.”

Chapter 6
    THE knock on the door startled her. She was sitting in front of the computer, bursting the bright-colored bubbles that floated onto the screen. Ever since the rape she hadn’t slept, just sat at the computer for hours playing mindless games. Trying to empty her head. To forget. She hadn’t been outside for ages. She’d tried last Saturday. She got her bike and rode along the Yarkon River down to the sea. She loved the sea. But the sight of so many half-naked, sweaty men running along the promenade made her sick, and she quickly returned home.
    “Adi, Adinka, it’s Dad,” she heard through the door. Just like that