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twenty homicides a year, in a city of over two million inhabitants. Child abuse was not uncommon, if under-reported. But the murder of a child was extremely rare; years since his section investigated one.
    His black notebook was in his pants, in the bedroom, on the floor. Ramirez did not want to wake Francesca again by re-entering their bedroom and rummaging around or there would be another murder for someone else to investigate.
    He found one of his small daughter’s drawings and began to scribble notes on the back. It would have to do.
    “A fisherman, Carlos Rivero, discovered the body around twenty minutes ago. He was setting up his bait cans when he saw something floating in the water. He screamed for help. Another fisherman ran over and they lifted the body over the seawall. That is when they realized the boy was dead. It took a few minutes for Señor Rivero to find a policeman because of the holiday last night.”
    It wouldn’t take long to overcome that problem, thought Ramirez. There would soon be dozens of policemen at the scene.
    They swarmed to any incident as quickly as cockroaches fled from light. But according to Dispatch, the patrolman who arrived first acquitted himself well.
    Officer Fernando Espinoza confirmed that the boy was dead, then made a note of the time of his arrival and took statements from witnesses while memories were fresh. Espinoza looked for signs of violence on the body, which he carefully recorded in his notebook. Only then did he search the small body. He found a wallet hidden in the boy’s underwear. It held a Canadian passport and a badge.
    The dispatcher gave Ramirez the name and birthdate of the man in the passport: Michael Taylor Ellis, born August 29, 1969. And according to the badge, Señor Ellis was a detective with the Rideau Regional Police in Ontario, Canada.
    “Drowned?”
    “Dr. Apiro says blunt force trauma.”
    It was Espinoza’s first homicide, but it appeared that he had used uncommon sense. Instead of disturbing the scene further, he asked Dispatch to contact Ramirez for further instructions.
    “Which is why I had to wake you up on your day off,” the dispatcher explained. “Again, my sincere apologies, Inspector Ramirez.”
    “You did the right thing, Sophia. I was afraid I would end up working today. I have learned over time that what I most fear often happens. Radio that young officer back and patch him through, will you? And by the way, Feliz Navidad .”
    “Thank you, Inspector,” Sophia said, and then less certainly, given the circumstances, “I hope you and your family have a Merry Christmas as well.”
    Ramirez was undressed and scruffy with a light morning beard, but he was waking up rapidly. His plans for Christmas Day were shattered. There had been enough left of the chickenfrom last night’s dinner to invite his relatives back for a second time tonight. The dinner on Christmas Eve was the first meal with meat that he’d tasted in months. The disturbing nature of this call made it unlikely he would enjoy two.
    The line crackled as the dispatcher connected Espinoza and said goodbye.
    “Officer Espinoza?”
    “Yes, sir?”
    “You’ve done a good job so far. Now make sure you preserve and protect the scene and keep onlookers as far back as possible. Do you have any yellow barrier tape?” Ramirez hoped that Patrol had some. If they were out of tape, it could take months to find more.
    “I will call for some, sir.”
    “Good. I will be at the scene as soon as I get dressed. You are the officer in charge until then.” Ramirez could almost see the young man’s face break into a smile as the patrolman contemplated a day of real police work.
    A dead child. Ramirez wondered when the boy would drop by.

NINE
    Mike Ellis woke up around five in the morning. His head cracked with pain. He didn’t realize that Hillary’s things were gone until he went into the bathroom to get a glass of water and an aspirin. For a split second, his adrenalin spiked at