The Cold Moon (Lincoln Rhyme 7)

"Is the phone in his name?"

"No. It's one of those prepaid ones. He buys a new one every few days and throws out the old one."

"Get the number," Rhyme ordered. "Run it with the service providers."

Mel Cooper called the major mobile companies in the area and had several brief conversations. He hung up and reported, "East Coast Communications. Prepaid, like he said. Cash purchase. No way to trace it if the battery's out."

"Hell," Rhyme muttered.

Sellitto's phone rang. Bo Haumann's Emergency Service Unit teams were on their way. They'd be at the church in a few minutes.

"Sounds like that's our only hope," Baker said.

He, Sachs and Pulaski hurried out the door to join the tactical operation.

Rhyme, Dance and Sellitto remained in his lab, to try to learn more about Gerald Duncan from Vincent, while Cooper searched databases for any information on him.

"What's his interest in clocks and time and the lunar calendar?" Rhyme asked.

"He collects old clocks and watches. He really was a watchmaker--a hobby, you know. It's not like he has a shop or anything."

Rhyme said, "But he might've worked for one at some point. Find out the professional organization of watchmakers. Collectors too."

Cooper typed on his keyboard. He asked, "America only?"

Dance asked Vincent, "What's his nationality?"

"He's American, I guess. He doesn't have an accent or anything."

After browsing a number of websites Cooper shook his head. "It's a popular business. The big groups seem to be the Geneva Association of Watchmakers, Jewelers and Goldsmiths, the Association Interprofessionnelle de la Haute Horlogerie in Switzerland; the American Watchmakers Institute; the Swiss Association of Watch and Jewelry Retailers, also in Switzerland; the British Association of Watch and Clock Collectors; the British Horological Institute; the Employers' Association of the Swiss Watch Industry; and the Federation of the Swiss Watch Industries . . . but there're dozens more."

"Send them emails," Sellitto said. "Ask about Duncan. As a watchmaker or collector."

"And Interpol," Rhyme said. Then to Vincent: "How did you meet?"

The man gave a rambling account about a coincidental, innocent meeting. Kathryn Dance listened and in her calm voice asked a few questions and announced that he was being deceptive. "The deal is you play straight with us," she said, leaning forward. Her gaze was cool through her predator glasses.

"Okay, I was just, like, summarizing, you know."

"We don't want summaries," Rhyme growled. "We want to know how the fuck you met him."

The rapist admitted while it was a coincidence, the meeting wasn't so innocent. He gave the details of their initial contact at a restaurant near where Vincent worked. Duncan was checking out one of the men who'd been killed the previous day and Vincent had his eye on a waitress.

What a pair, these two, Rhyme reflected.

Mel Cooper looked up from the computer screen. "Getting some hits here . . . We've got sixty-eight Gerald Duncans in fifteen midwestern states. I'm running warrants and VICAP first then cross-referencing approximate ages and professions. You can't narrow down the location any more?"

"I would if I could. He never talked about himself."

&nb

sp; Dance nodded. She believed him.

Lon Sellitto asked the question that Rhyme had been about to. "We know he's targeting specific victims, checking 'em out ahead of time. Why? What's he up to?"

The rapist answered, "His wife."

"He's married?"