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happened?” the colonel said, glancing in Havers’s direction. “The victim—Allied or German?”
    “That’s to be determined. We found no clothing or documents saying one way or the other. His head and body were shaved. No physical traits to speak of, except he was uncircumcised. I’m having Mr. Wolski make calls to the various division and battalion headquarters to see if any servicemen are reported missing.”
    “Havers believes the victim is German.”
    “So far, there’s no evidence to confirm one way or the other. Mr. Havers jumped to that conclusion on his own.”
    Havers butted in. “I’ve already had my deputy investigators check all bulletins about missing army or American civilian personnel, and none of them match the victim.”
    “Mr. Havers should be aware that it takes a couple of days for someone to be filed as missing. Then a couple of days for the bulletins to make the rounds. Plus, it doesn’t take into account personnel on leave or those sent out on travel or extended duties.” He addressed Havers directly. “And if you’d waited for Major Treborn’s report, you’d know that he puts the time of death at no more than a day and a half, tops . ”
    “You arrogant son of a bitch,” Havers said.
    The colonel banged his desk. “That’s enough.” He pointed his index finger at Mason. “I won’t have any disrespect of your fellow investigators. We work together or not at all. Now, get on with your report.”
    “I assume Mr. Havers filled you in on the state of the body.”
    “Yes, but I want your version.”
    Mason told the colonel about the torso being lashed to the column, the mesh around the organs, and the display of limbs on the floor above. Colonel Walton showed no reaction, though Mason’s stomach contracted in retelling the details. “We couldn’t find any recent fingerprints. Any imprints they found of fingers or hands indicate the killer was probably wearing nonfibrous gloves. Footprints indicate that the killer also wore some kind of cloth over his shoes or boots. We estimate his shoe size at between ten and eleven. I’d like to go back to the scene tomorrow, but my guess is we won’t find anything more. This guy was meticulous and only left traces he wanted us to find.”
    Colonel Walton nodded.
    “The canvassing turned up nothing. No one claims to have seen or heard anything. We’ll continue canvassing in a wider circle tomorrow.”
    “I heard about your close call with his booby trap,” Colonel Walton said.
    Mason nodded and fingered the slice in the left arm of his coat, then pulled out his notepad and read the message the killer had left on the fire escape door.
    “So not the work of rival gangs?” Colonel Walton asked.
    Mason shook his head. “This is a psychopathic killer. I believe this isn’t his first and it won’t be his last.”
    Colonel Walton’s desk sergeant came in with a large manila envelope. “This was just delivered from the photo lab, sir, for Mr. Collins.” He handed Mason the envelope and left.
    “The crime scene photos,” Mason said.
    “Not right now. I have a late dinner engagement, and I don’t want to ruin my appetite.”
    No doubt Colonel Walton had a beautiful young fräulein waiting for him as well. Mason had heard about the colonel’s revolving door of lovely girls. From the time U.S. forces had entered Germany, an edict had been issued that all Allied personnel were forbidden to fraternize—“fratting,” as the men called it—with the enemy civilian population. It didn’t take long for the nonfraternization rules to be ignored, especially where young ladies were concerned. By the end of July, the army had pretty much given up on the unpopular edict. A couple of packs of cigarettes could buy you an evening. And if there was one thing the army had plenty of, it was cigarettes.
    A flush of red popped onto the colonel’s cheeks under Mason’s knowing gaze. “That will be all, gentlemen.”
    Collins and Havers started to