The Empty Chair (Lincoln Rhyme 3)

Rhyme asked, "And how's the case against him?"

"Not good. There's no evidence. There's no link between him and Bell or anybody else in town. He used middlemen and they're all stonewalling or out of the jurisdiction."

"But," Rhyme said, "don't you want to nail him--before any more people die of cancer? Before more children get sick and kill themselves? Before more babies are born with birth defects?"

"Of course I want to."

"Then you need me. You won't find a criminalist anywhere in the state who can bring Davett down. I can." Rhyme glanced at Sachs. He could see tears in her eyes. He knew that the only thought in her mind now was that, whether they sent her to jail or not, she hadn't killed an innocent man.

The prosecutor sighed deeply. Then nodded. Quickly, as if he might change his mind, he said, "Deal." He looked at the bench. "Your Honor, in the case of the People versus Sachs, the state is withdrawing all charges."

"So ordered," said the bored judge. "Defendant is free to go. Next case." He didn't even bother to bang down his gavel.

... chapter forty-five

"I didn't know whether you'd show up," Lincoln Rhyme said.

He was, in fact, surprised.

"Wasn't sure I was going to either," Sachs replied. They were in his hospital room at the medical center in Avery.

He said, "I just got back from visiting Thom on the fifth floor. That's pretty odd--I'm more mobile than he is."

"How is he?"

"He'll be fine. He should be out in a day or two. I told him he was about to see physical therapy from a whole new angle. He didn't laugh."

A pleasant Guatemalan woman--the temporary caregiver--sat in the corner, knitting a yellow-and-red shawl. She seemed to be weathering Rhyme's moods though he believed that this was because she didn't understand English well enough to appreciate his sarcasm and insults.

"You know, Sachs," Rhyme said, "when I heard you'd busted Garrett out of detention it half occurred to me you'd done it to give me a chance to rethink the operation."

A smile curved her Julia Roberts lips. "Maybe there was a bit of that."

"So you're here now to talk me out of it?"

She rose from the chair and walked to the window. "Pretty view."

"Peaceful, isn't it. Fountain and garden. Plants. Don't know what kind."

"Lucy could tell you. She knows plants the way Garrett knows bugs. Excuse me, insects. A bug is only one type of insect.... No, Rhyme, I'm not here to talk you out of it. I'm here to be with you now and to be in the recovery room when you wake up."

"Change of heart?"

She turned to him. "When Garrett and I were on the run he was telling me about something he read in that book of his. The Miniature World."

"I have a new respect for dung beetles after reading it," Rhyme said.

"There was something he showed me, a passage. It was a list of the characteristics of living creatures. One of them was that healthy creatures strive to grow and to adapt to the environment. I realized that's something you have to do, Rhyme--have this surgery. I can't interfere with it."

After a moment he said, "I know it's not going to cure me, Sachs. But what's the nature of our business? It's little victories. We find a fiber here, a partial latent friction ridge there, a few grains of sand that might lead to the killer's house. That's all I'm after here--a little improvement. I'm not climbing out of this chair, I know that. But I need a little victory."

Maybe the chance to hold your hand for real.

She bent down, kissed him hard, then sat on the bed.

"What's that look, Sachs? You seem a bit coy."

"That passage in Garrett's book?"