His grandmother can’t go downstairs any more, so Brade brings his victims to the basement.

It has all the modern conveniences—pipes fitted with chains, a table to hold his knives, a drain to wash away the blood. It even has a secret exit, for the inevitable day when justice comes to call.

But when the bell rings for Brade, it isn’t justice—it’s his conscience, in the form of FBI agent John Becker.

More than any other cop, Becker understands what goes on in a serial killer’s mind, and he comes to exact vengeance in blood.

An icepick-wielding assassin is loose in New York City, and his target is Yasser Arafat.

Bury his icepick in the Palestinian’s ear, and the Mideast will descend into chaos—unless Becker can get the killer’s scent in time to bring him down.