“What are you, some techno freak?” said Korsak.

“I like cool gadgets. I was an engineering major.”

“You were?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I didn’t think guys like you were into that stuff.”

“Guys like me?”

“I mean, the earring and all. You know.”

Rizzoli sighed. “Open mouth, insert foot.”

“What?” said Korsak. “I’m not putting them down or anything. I just happen to notice that not many of them go into engineering. More like theater and the arts and stuff. I mean, that’s good. We need artists.”

“I went to U. Mass,” said Mick, refusing to take offense. He continued to scan the floor. “Electrical engineering.”

“Hey, electricians make good money.”

“Um, that’s not quite the same career.”

They were moving in an ever-widening circle, the UV light continuing to pick up the occasional fleck of hair, fibers, and other unidentifiable particles. Suddenly they moved into a startlingly bright field.

“The rug,” said Mick. “Whatever these fibers are, they’re fluorescing like crazy. Won’t be able to see much against this background.”

“Scan it anyway,” said Rizzoli.

“Coffee table’s in the way. Could you move it?”

Rizzoli reached down toward what appeared to her as only a geometric shadow against a fluorescing background of white. “Korsak, get the other end,” she said.

With the coffee table moved aside, the area rug was a bright oval pool that glowed bluish-white.

“How we gonna spot anything on that background?” said Korsak. “It’s like trying to see glass floating in water.”

“Glass doesn’t float,” said Mick.