"Andrea was a long time ago," Stephan said softly, an edge of compassion in his voice.
"Mike wasn't." He tried to control the almost instinctive rush of anger, but the desire to hit someone, anyone, was so fierce his fists clenched. "Death comes in threes, Byrne. I'm due one more."
And come hell or high water, that death was not going to be Sam.
Stephan studied him for a long moment, then shook his head and headed back to the apartment building. Gabriel fell into step beside him. The matter of a partner might have been dropped, but it was definitely not forgotten. But this was one battle of wills his brother was not going to win.
"Why are you here?" he asked, as they entered the building.
"It's a personal favor for Frank Maxwell."
Maxwell was the Federal Minister for Education, and one of the few friends the real Byrne had actually had. As such, he'd posed a very real threat to Stephan securing his new identity. Luckily, the two men had seen little of each other in the last year. Any differences Maxwell might see in Byrne now he'd surely put down to time. "Why?"
"It's his son who's been murdered."
Gabriel glanced at his brother in surprise. "A male? You sure it's the same killer, not a copycat?"
Stephan's smile was grim. "You'll see when we get there."
Which could only mean the clinical brutality of the previous attacks was evident here also. He eyed the police officer guarding the express elevator and frowned. The same young officer had been guarding the doorway after Jack had bombed Sam's apartment. Odd that he was here now, too.
"Is Marsden on scene?" he asked softly.
Stephan met his gaze and gave a minute shake his head. The young officer stepped aside as they approached the elevator. Gabriel glanced at his nametag. Sanders.
"Tenth floor, sir?"
Gabriel nodded, noting Sander's eyes were a deep, unfathomable green, and somehow seemed older than his years. It was almost as if the soul behind the eyes had seen more than one lifetime.
The officer pressed the button, then stepped clear as the elevator doors slid shut. Stephan raised an eyebrow at Gabriel. "Why the question about Marsden? He's a beat cop, not homicide."
He shrugged. "That kid was working with Marsden when Sam's apartment was bombed."
"He might have been transferred."
"Maybe." Maybe he was just getting suspicious in his old age. Still, it wouldn't hurt to check why the kid was here, when he had the time. "How old was Maxwell's son?"
"Twenty-five, same as the others."
The lift came to a stop, and the doors opened. The hallway beyond was pale blue, offset by gold carpet. Four doors led off the hall, and a police officer stood guard at the far end. Gabriel glanced up at the ceiling. Monitors were stationed at regular intervals, tracking them silently.
"You requested the security tapes?"
Stephan nodded. "Copies have already been sent back to your office."
"Good." He stepped into the apartment. The place was huge, and the wall to ceiling glass flanking two sides of the apartment only added to the feeling of space. What few inner walls the apartment had were pale blue, but the carpet and the furniture were white. A spherical-shaped crimecorder hovered in the middle of the room, red light flashing to indicate it was recording.
"He obviously didn't have any youngsters visiting, not with all this white furniture," he commented. "What's the victim's name?"
"Harry. And there're no kids, no wife, and as far as Frank knew, no girlfriend."
He raised an eyebrow. "What about a boyfriend?"
"A possibility. Frank was rather brusque when I asked if there was any particular woman his son might have been seeing."
The body lay on one of the white sofas. He walked to it. As long as you didn't look below the waist, it would be easy to think Harry had merely died in his sleep. His arms were crossed, his face peaceful. There was no terror, no hint that he'd known he was about to die so brutally.
"Cause of death?" he asked, despite the fact it was obvious. No man could loose his penis and scrotum, and survive the resulting shock and blood loss unless he had medical help real fast.