The Steel Kiss (Lincoln Rhyme 12)

"You mentioned Algonquin Transportation."

"I did. You've heard of it?"

"It's not in business anymore but I believe it was a private trucking company."

"That's right. It transported pharmaceuticals and cigarettes in unmarked semis for big brand manufacturers--unmarked because, of course, hijackers would target trucks with Philip Morris or Pfizer logos on them."

"I'm aware of that practice. What does that have to do with me?"

"Fifteen years ago an Algonquin semi carrying two million dollars' worth of prescription drugs was hijacked near a bridge over the Gowanus Canal."

"Was it?"

"You know it was. The hijacker stashed the drugs in a warehouse in Queens but before he could get back and fence them to his buyers he got busted. Somebody in a Brooklyn crew found out about the 'jacked merchandise and stole the whole shipment from the warehouse. It took me a while but I found out those guys worked for you."

"I don't know anything about that."

"No? Well, I do."

Perone said nothing for a moment. Then: "How're you so sure?"

"Because I was the hijacker." Nick let that sit for a minute. "Now. My take from the job was going to be seven hundred K. Which you robbed me of. Inflation and interest? Give me a million and we're square."

CHAPTER 42

Well, look at this." Mel Cooper was grinning, running a hand through his thinning hair.

Stepping into the parlor, moving slowly, Lon Sellitto nodded to those present. He'd been Rhyme's partner for some years when the criminalist was on the NYPD. Of recent, Sellitto had fed Rhyme consultancy work, helping Major Cases with forensics and other investigative services.

"Lon!" Pulaski was on his feet and pumping the detective's hand.

"All right, all right. Take it easy on an old man." In fact, Sellitto was comfortably lounging somewhere in middle age.

Thom, who'd let the officer in, said, "Anything for you, Lon?"

"Hell yes. If you baked it, I'm all over it."

The aide smiled. "Anyone else?"

The others declined.

Sellitto was a Cliffs Notes version of himself, having been sidelined for a long time thanks to a perp who'd poisoned him. He'd nearly died and had undergone a great deal of treatment and therapy. He had dropped, Rhyme guessed, forty pounds over the past year. His thinning hair was graying. With his lithe new physique he looked even more rumpled than usual. The clothes didn't fit and some of the newly emptied skin was baggy too.

Sellitto walked farther into the room, eyes on Juliette Archer. "What is this..." His voice faded.

Rhyme--and Archer--laughed. "You can say it."

"I..."

Archer cocked her head. "A wheelchair showroom?"

Sellitto, blushing one of the few blushes Rhyme had ever seen on his cheeks, said, "I was gonna say convention. But yours is funnier."

Rhyme introduced them.

She said, "I'm an intern."

Sellitto cut a glance toward Rhyme. "You? Are a mentor? Jesus, Juliette, good luck with that."