| SIXTY-SEVEN |

AT 11:45 PM, THE TEAM STARTED ASSEMBLING IN THE DUTY ROOM. IN addition to the homicide detectives, a call had gone out to off-duty members of the Five Squad. They also had a call in to a man named Arthur Lake, president of the Philadelphia chapter of the International Brotherhood of Magicians.

TONY PARK HAD BEEN WORKING the computer for more than four hours.

“Detectives.”

Jessica and Byrne crossed the room.

“What’s up, Tony?”

“There’s a new video on his GothOde page.”

“Have you run it?”

“I have not. I was waiting for you.”

They gathered around a computer terminal. Tony Park clicked on the last image. The screen changed to an individual page.

“This last one was uploaded twenty minutes ago,” Park said. “It already has two hundred viewings. This guy has a following.”

“Play it.”

Park turned up the volume, clicked on the video. It was the same man in the other videos, dressed in an identical manner. But this time he was standing on a dark street. Behind him was City Hall.

“Life is a puzzle, n’est-ce pas?” he began, speaking directly to the camera. “If you are watching this, then you know the game is on.

“You have seen the first four illusions. There are three to go. Seven Wonders in all.”

On the video, there was a special effect. Three smaller screens appeared below him. On the smaller screens were three teenage girls. All sat in darkened rooms.

“One illusion at 2:00 AM. One illusion at 4:00 AM. And the grand finale at 6:00 AM. This is going to be spectacular. It will light up the night.” The man leaned forward slightly. “Can you solve the puzzle in time? Can you find the maidens? Are you good enough?”

One by one the small screens went black.

“Here is a clue,” the man said. “He flies between Begichev and Geltser.”

The man then turned and pointed toward City Hall.

“Watch the clock. The dance begins at midnight.”

He waved a hand, and disappeared. The video ended.

“What does he mean, watch the clock?” Jessica asked.

BYRNE SLAMMED on the brakes as he pulled the car over into the center of the intersection of North Broad and Arch streets, about a block away from city hall. It was approximately the same vantage point as the killer in the last video.

He and Jessica got out of the car. The flashing dashboard light strobed across the tall buildings. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the clock tower at City Hall. Not at first.

Then it happened.

At the stroke of midnight the huge clock face turned bloodred.

“Oh my God,” Jessica said.

The sky over Philadelphia flashed with lightning. Detective Kevin Byrne looked at his partner, at his watch.

It was just after midnight. If this monster was telling the truth—and there was absolutely no reason to doubt him—they had less than two hours to save the first girl.