Night had fallen， and the woman looked down at the crumpled letter， as if， in absolute darkness， she could read the postscript: Only a monster can play this game. In Chicago， an FBI agent is killed in a psychiatrist s waiting room. In New York， the jurors from a controversial trial are murdered one by one. The only connections between the two: a flamboyant shock-jock， whose on-air comments seem to be taking him dangerously close to the edge， and a woman， her body misshapen since childhood， whose job it is to clean up crime scenes-and maybe to create them as well. This is a federal case， and Mallory s been told that the FBI wants no part of her. But she knows something nobody else does-and， besides， when has she ever cared what anybody else wanted?