Judging Time Read Free Page B

time of yin in a new case, the time when the door to a puzzle of huge dimension—something new and altogether unknown—opened to a vast space of churning, primal chaos. And she had to enter it. Yin was the time of discovery, before the forceful action of yang must be taken. Hagedorn cut the motor. April felt anxious. Despite all the people around who were supposed to be on her side supporting her actions and authority, she knew she was alone. From the number of cars and the attitude of the people standing around, it looked as if this was going to be the Big One every detective both wanted and feared. She shivered, afraid of messing up.
    From the car she couldn't see the bodies. They appeared to be on a lower level, down two steps in a tiny yard enclosed by a row of dwarf conifers that twinkled merrily with dozens of white Christmas lights. A number of uniforms hung over the outside railing in a clot, stamping their feet and blowing steam as they looked down. Opening the car door, April was hit with a blast of killing winter air that felt even more penetrating than it had only a few minutes earlier. A single snowflake smacked at her cheek. Great, it was beginning to snow.
    In the street, ice was crusting over the slush. On the sidewalk, snow powdered between patches of ice. These were the worst possible conditions for a crime scene. The temperature was dropping. And with a dozen people walking the area since the murders, it might well be impossible to determine if the perp had left anything of himself behind.
    The sight of the thickly padded uniforms brushing the snow off the railing and stamping the sidewalk to warm their feet gave April a flash to the mirror in the Bed-Sty precinct that had been her first house. The mirror had been inside a closet, was dappled with ancient grime, and had a jagged piece broken out of one corner. All the patrol officers had been complaining about her—the skinny Chink, probably a dike, talked so soft no one could hear her.
    Steve Zapora had been her supervisor at the time. About six foot four, red-faced, the size of a minivan. Every day in roll call this red-faced giant yelled at her that her hair was too long, had to be higher than her collar. Insisted that she shave her neck and personally checked to make sure it was done. And every day he took her downstairs. He made her stand in front of the stupid filthy mirror and he made her growl like a dog, made her raise her voice saying, "Hey you, there on the stairs, stop. Hey you in the red jacket, stop. Hey you, stop over and over until she could say stop loud enough to command attention.
    Then Zapora got the biggest guy in the house and told her to take him down. April took the guy' down so fast he was on the floor before he was aware she'd made a move. Then, like a complete idiot, she'd put her hand to her mouth and said, "Gosh, I'm sorry." Things changed for her in the house after that, though.
    April got out of the car. Her breath made great clouds of steam. Right in front of her two guys with black knit caps were busy rigging spotlights out of a van. "What are they doing here?" she demanded.
    Hagedorn shrugged. "TV crew. They must have picked up the call. I know these guys. They hang out around here." Five networks had studios in the area. Hagedorn's baleful eyes were full of scorn that his new supervisor didn't know that.
    "I know what they are," April snapped. "Get them out of here."
    "Huh?" He looked shocked at her change of tone.
    "Now." She ducked under the tape, hating him for making her have to act like one of them. The clot of uniforms turned around to stare. One said, "Lady, you can't come in here."
    Then they caught sight of Hagedorn, who jerked his head at her. "Sergeant Woo," he explained.
    April nodded brusquely to them. "Anybody ever tell you what the procedures are for protecting a crime scene? Would you like me to tell you now?"
    No one said anything. The uniforms just edged away to let her take over, as if they were glad