The Vanished Man (Lincoln Rhyme 5)

"What?" Sellitto asked.

Rhyme glanced at Kara, who was shaking her head. "Mr. Balzac never told me that when I called him last night."

"After the fire," Kadesky said, "we retooled. Cirque du Soleil was having so much success I recommended to Sid Keller that we do what they were. When we got the insurance money we started Fantastique."

"No, no, no," Rhyme whispered, staring at the evidence charts.

"What, Linc?" Sellitto asked.

"That's what Weir's doing here," he announced. "Your show's his target. Cirque Fantastique."

"What?"

Scanning the evidence again. Applying facts to the premise.

Rhyme nodded. "Dogs!"

"What?" Sachs asked.

"Goddamn dogs! Look at the chart. Look at it! The animal hairs and Central Park dirt're from the dog knoll! Right outside the window." A fierce nod toward the front of his town house. "He wasn't checking out Cheryl Marston on the bridle path; he was checking out the circus. The newspaper, the one in his Mazda--look at that headline: 'Entertainment for Kids Young and Old.' Call up the paper--see if there's information about the circus in it. Thom--call Peter! Hurry."

The aide was good friends with a reporter for the Times, a young man who'd helped them occasionally in the past. He grabbed the phone and placed the call. Peter Hoddins worked the International desk but it took him less than a minute to find the answer. He relayed the information to Thom, who announced, "The circus was the feature of the story. All sorts of details--hours, acts, bios of the employees. Even a sidebar on security."

"Shit," Rhyme snapped. "He was doing his research. . . . And the press pass? That'd give him access to backstage." Rhyme was squinting as he looked at the evidence chart. "Yes! I get it now. The victims. What did they represent? Jobs in the circus. A makeup artist. A horseback rider. . . . And the first victim! Yes, she was a student but what was her job? Singing and entertaining kids--like a clown'd do."

"And the murder techniques themselves," Sachs pointed out. "They were all magic tricks."

*

"Yep. He's after your show. Terry Dobyns said his motive was ultimately revenge. Hell, he's planted a fuel bomb."

"My God," Kadesky said. "There're two thousand people there! And the show's starting in ten minutes."

At two in the afternoon. . . .

"The Sunday matinee," Rhyme added. "Just like in Ohio three years ago."

Sellitto grabbed his Motorola and called the officers stationed at the circus. There was no answer. The detective frowned and placed a call on Rhyme's speakerphone.

"Officer Koslowski here," the man answered a moment later.

Sellitto identified himself and barked, "Why isn't your radio on, Officer?"

"Radio? Well, we're off duty, Lieutenant."

"Off duty? You just went on duty."

"Well, Detective, we were told to stand down."

"You were what?"

"Some detective came by a half hour ago and told us we weren't needed anymore. Said we could take the rest of the day off. I'm on my way to Rockaway Beach with my family. I can--"

"Describe him."

"Fifties. Beard, brown hair."

"Where'd he go?"