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she stepped along the creek bank and periodically scanned the ground, sometimes while bending over, sometimes squatting down. Finally she found what she was looking for and extracted a thin plastic envelope from her bag. With forceps she carefully scooped up a small dried pellet, brownish black in color and the size of a rice grain. After inserting it into the envelope she dropped it, too, in the sample bag—which was getting full.
    Cecily stood up and glanced toward the trees. "Either you and your friends are voracious," she said to the owl, "or we've got a definite problem around here."
    Walking out of the woods —a narrow strip of vegetation in an otherwise urban jungle—Cecily's cell phone beeped. She uttered a curse.
    " Cessal," said a voice from the speaker, muffled by Cecily's dark slacks.
    She stripped off the mask, bagged it, and stuffed it in the sample bag. "Yes, Kraig," she said, crossing the last patch of weeds and reaching the sidewalk. Traffic along the street was picking up, the beginning of rush hour. She got in the car and started the engine.
    " Mmmf onna profress?"
    Cecily sighed and pulled out her cell. "I'd make more progress if you didn't keep interrupting me."
    " What have we got?"
    " A lot of creek water, a few mouse turds, some rat turds, some insects, and swabs of public telephones, door handles, and water fountains around the city."
    " I don't have to tell you, I know, to be extra careful with those samples."
    There was a moment of silence. Cecily clamped the cell onto a dashboard clip and pulled the car out into the street. Then she said: "You mean I should have washed my hands before eating?"
    Kraig didn 't rise to the bait. "How's Lisa doing?"
    " She's making the rounds at the local hospital and clinics." Cecily didn't say anything about seeing Lisa putting on lipstick just after they swabbed the site where one of the victims expired. Lisa had even lifted her fingers almost up to her lips before Cecily warned her. Sure, she's green, thought Cecily, that's to be expected; but all it takes is one mistake and you're the next victim.
    " What have you learned about the victims?"
    " One was a homeless man, aged 54. Apparently he'd been hanging around the neighborhood for a few months, doing odd jobs. Probably as a lookout for one of the dope dealers, and other, more mundane jobs, like sweeping up, stocking shelves, that sort of thing. Witnesses said they'd seen him recently, but he didn't look sick. Seemed harmless, didn't bother anybody. The other victim was 42, current address the same as his girlfriend. Except one of their neighbors told me they had had a fight and she threw him out a few days ago. Seems he went on a bender every once in a while and could get pretty rowdy."
    " What did she say? The girlfriend?"
    " Can't find her yet. No one answers the door."
    " You know where she works?"
    " Yes, but she's not there right now. Or at least that's what they tell me. I gather she's not very communicative."
    Kraig paused. "He do any hard stuff? Supplementing the alcohol?"
    Cecily pulled the car to the curb and came to a stop. She looked around the neighborhood. "If it's needles you're thinking about, there's plenty enough in these parts. It's a possibility. Other stuff comes to mind too. Lots of drugs in this neighborhood."
    " He have anywhere to go after he got kicked out?"
    " I'm still checking. I don't think so. According to one person I talked to he wasn't too friendly and didn't have a lot of pals. At least none that would let him crash at their place for a while."
    " So, in effect, he was also homeless."
    " Looks that way." Cecily got her bearings. She saw the glimmering yellow police tape and realized she was near the site of one of the victims.
    " Anything else?" asked Kraig.
    " One more thing." Cecily sighed. "I don't like this. I don't like any of this."
    Another pause —as if Kraig was afraid to ask. Finally he said, "What?"
    " There are too few rodents. Plenty of old turds, not so many