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FOUR-TWENTY LOMA VISTA TURNED OUT TO be a vast, sprawling, Spanish Mission–style 1920s estate, perched high in the Hollywood Hills A discreet, ivy-clad gate set into a fifteen-foot wall gave little clue of the opulence that hid behind it: a draardens so enormous and perfectly rounds of a private residence

The patrol at a crime scene

Open gate

Front door ajar

No signs of forced entry

The place was eerily quiet He drew his weapon

“Police!”

No answer As the echo of his own voice faded, fro sound, like a not quite boiling teakettle Nervously, he mounted the stairs

Goddamn you, Mickey

“Police!” he shouted again,froun drawn What the fuck? He heard a wo crunch of his own skull as it slaainst the floor The wooden boards were as slick as an oil spill

But they weren’t slick with oil

They were slick with blood

DETECTIVE DANNY MCGUIRE FROM HOMICIDE DIVISION tried to hide his frustration Theno sense

“¡Pudo haber sido el diablo! ¡El diablo!”

It’s not her fault, Detective Danny McGuire reminded himself The poor woman had been alone in the house when she found them No wonder she was still hysterical

“¡Esa pobre mujer! ¿Quién podía hacer una cosa terrible como esa?”

After six years in homicide, it took a lot to turn Detective Danny McGuire’s stoe in front of hier he’d eaten earlier fighting its way up into his esophagus in a desperate bid for freedom No wonder the officer who’d arrived at the scene had lost it In front of him was the work of a maniac

If it weren’t for the criht have looked like a burglary The bedroom had been ransacked, drawers opened, jewelry boxes eraphs strewn everywhere But the real horror lay at the foot of the bed Two bodies, a man and a woman The first victim, an elderly male in his pajamas, had had his throat slashed in such a repeated, frenzied manner that his head was almost completely severed from his neck He’d been bound, trussed almost, like an ani ropes Whoever killed him had tied his mutilated corpse to the naked body of the second victi froh her face had been so badly beaten it was hard to tell for sure One glance at her bloodied thighs and pubic area, however,abundantly clear: she had been violently raped

Covering his mouth, Detective Danny McGuire moved closer to the bodies The s But that wasn’t what made him recoil

“Get a knife,” he said to the maid

She looked at him blankly

“Cuchillo,” he repeated “Now! And so”

THE KNIFE WAS PRODUCED GINGERLY DANNY McGuire began cutting through the ropes binding the ether His touch see in and out of consciousness Danny bent low so his mouth was close to her ear Even in her battered state, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, dark-haired and full-breasted with the soft, milky skin of a child “I’m a police officer,” he whispered “You’re safe now

We’re gonna get you to a doctor” As the ropes loosened, the old ainst Danny’s shoulder, like soed

One of his lary, sir The safe’s been es”

Danny nodded “Victims’ names?”