Claudia and I were summoned to the Complex Crimes Brigade. The room smelled of paper and stale coffee. Deputy Commissioner Rivas greeted us with a frank look.

"I need your account with clockwork precision," she said. "And access to everything you have: audio recordings, photos, cowork records, security footage from the construction site."

Claudia handed over a USB drive with the evidence index.

"I can give accurate testimony of the facts," I said bluntly.

"Have you received direct threats from Serrano?" asked Rivas.

"Several," I replied. "And he always plays with time. Clocks, countdowns. He likes to give me choices."

"Perfect," he noted. "That's a pattern."

Reyes entered with an open file.

"We have a lead," he announced. "A taxi dropped off a woman matching Serrano's description two blocks from an apart-hotel downtown last night. She checked in with a fake ID under the name Carolina S., paid in cash, and left a green cap in the room."

"Don't underestimate her," I said. "If she left t