At the same time, over four-thousand miles away from Gozo"s coast, John Steel sat in his office at the NYPD"s 11th precinct. The room had been an old storage room that he had commandeered. The walls were a mix of half red-painted plaster and a lower half made from dark wooden panels. The hardened concrete of the floor was now hidden under a polished wood. There were brass lamps and Cambridge style bookshelves. The whole place looked as though it should belong in a stately home.
John Steel sat behind a long oak desk. The top was covered with green leather. On the desk was a computer monitor to his right and a landline pushed far to the left. The computer keyboard and mouse were in front of the monitor, leaving the centre of the desk free. To his right hung a large, lifeless flatscreen moni
