The Steel Kiss (Lincoln Rhyme 12)

"American," Eduardo answered. He wasn't being ironic.

"So, you stopped here. This intersection?"

"Yes, yes. I thought you want to see where exactly."

"We do. He paid with cash?"

"Yes, yes, that's all we take, don't you know?"

"I don't suppose there's any chance you still have the money he paid you with?"

"For fingerprints!"

"That's right."

"No." The driver shook his head broadly.

"You waited here and saw him go into one of those buildings." Pulaski was looking up from the notebook.

"I did, yes. I will tell you." He pointed up the street. "You can just see it, that one. Beige." He wrung two syllables out of the color.

It was the one they'd found on the satellite map. From here they could make out only a sliver of the five-story building; the front was on an adjoining street. It was surrounded by a vacant lot on one side and a half-demolished building on the other.

Eduardo continued, "I remember because I am thinking maybe whoever he was going to see was not home, or not there, and this neighborhood? No cruising medallions so he want to go back to Queens and I could make a second fare. But I saw him go through back door. That's when I left, don't you know?"

"We appreciate your help."

"He a killer?" Eduardo grinned happily.

"He's wanted in connection with a homicide, yes. If you see him again, if he comes by your office in Queens, call nine one one and give them my name." She dealt out another of her cards. "Don't do anything yourself, try to stop him."

"No, I call you, Officer Detective."

After he left, she and Pulaski started toward the building he'd pointed out. They got no more than a half block when she stopped fast.

"What is it, Amelia?" Pulaski whispered.

She was squinting. "What street is that? That the building faces?"

"I don't know." He pulled out his Samsung and loaded a map. "Ridge." The young officer frowned. "Why's that familiar?... Hell."

Sachs nodded. "Yep. It's where Todd Williams worked." She'd learned where the victim's office was and retraced his steps from the murder site back to here, canvassing for clues. She'd also tried to interview others in the ramshackle building but of the few people who had offices in the structure--only three or four, the rest of the space being empty--no one had seen anything helpful to the investigation.

"They knew each other. The unsub and Williams. Well, this changes everything."

It wasn't a robbery or random killing at all.

Sachs mused, "The unsub got here four hours before the murder. Did they stay in the building? If so, doing what? Or did they go somewhere else?"

And other questions: Did Unsub 40 come to this area often? Did he live near here?

She looked around the street. The occupied buildings included a few tenements and what seemed to be warehouses and wholesalers. The canvass probably wouldn't take too long. She'd assemble a team from the local precinct.

Sachs spotted a homeless man, lean and pale, foraging through a trash bin.

Approaching, Sachs said, "Hi. Can I ask you a question?"

"Just did." His dark face wrinkled.