"Let's see what we've got." Rhyme moved his wheelchair to the examination table as Cooper unpacked the clocks from plastic bags.
They were identical, the only difference being the blood crusted on the base of the clock that had been left on the pier. They seemed old--they weren't electric; you wound them by hand. But the components were modern. The works inside were in a sealed box, which had been opened by the bomb squad, but both clocks were still running and showed the correct time. The housing was wood, painted black, and the face was antiqued white metal. The numbers were Roman numerals, and the hour and minute hands, also black, ended in sharp arrows. There was no second hand but the clocks clicked loudly every second.
The most unusual feature was a large window in the top half of the face that displayed a disk on which were painted the phases of the moon. Centered in the window now was the full moon, depicted with an eerie human face, staring outward with ominous eyes and thin lips.
The full Cold Moon is in the sky . . .
Cooper went over the clocks with his usual precision and reported that there were no friction ridge prints and only minimal trace evidence, all of which matched samples that Sachs had collected around both scenes, meaning that none of it had been picked up in the Watchmaker's car or residence.
"Who makes them?"
"Arnold Products. Framingham, Massachusetts." Cooper did a Google search and read from the website. "They sell clocks, leather goods, office decorations, gifts. Upscale. The stuff's not cheap. A dozen different models of clocks. This is the Victorian. Genuine brass mechanism, oak, modeled after a British clock sold in the eighteen hundreds. Costs fifty-four dollars wholesale. They don't sell to the public. Have to go through the dealer."
"Serial numbers?"
"Only on the mechanisms. Not the clocks themselves."
"Okay," Rhyme ordered, "make the call."
"Me?" Pulaski asked, blinking.
"Yup. You."
"I'm supposed to--"
"Call the manufacturer and give them the serial numbers of the mechanism."
Pulaski nodded. "Then see if they can tell us which store it was shipped to."
"One hundred percent," Rhyme said.
The rookie took out his phone, got the number from Cooper and dialed.
Of course, the killer might not have been the purchaser. He could've stolen them from a store. He could've stolen them from a residence. He could've bought them used at a garage sale.
But "could've" is a word that goes with the territory of crime scene work, Rhyme reflected.
You have to start somewhere.
THE WATCHMAKER
* * *
CRIME SCENE ONE
Location:
* Repair pier in Hudson River, 22nd Street.
Victim:
* Identity unknown.
* Male.
* Possibly middle-aged or older, and may have coronary condition (presence of anticoagulants in blood).
* No other drugs, infection or disease in blood.