The Burning Wire (Lincoln Rhyme 9)

"How the hell many cables are there?"

"About four."

"Well, the one Sachs and Pulaski found at the school in Chinatown. I want the trace between the insulation and the wire itself dug out and run through their SEM."

Then came the sound of plastic and paper. A moment later, footsteps. "I'll be back in forty minutes, an hour."

"I don't care when you get back. I care when you call me with the results."

Footsteps, thudding.

The microphone was very sensitive.

A door slammed. Silence. The tapping of computer keys, nothing else.

Then Rhyme, shouting: "Goddamn it, Thom! . . . Thom!"

"What, Lincoln? Are you--"

"Is Mel gone?"

"Hold on."

After a moment the voice called, "Yes, his car just left. You want me to call him?"

"No, don't bother. Look, I need a piece of wire. I want to see if I can duplicate something Randall did. . . . A long piece of wire. Do we have anything like that here?"

"Extension cord?"

"No, bigger. Twenty, thirty feet."

"Why would I have any wire that long here?"

"I just thought maybe you would. Well, go find some. Now."

"Where am I supposed to find wire?"

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"A fucking wire store. I don't know. A hardware store. There's that one on Broadway, right? There used to be."

"It's still there. So you need thirty feet?"

"That should do it. . . . What?"

"It's just, you're not looking well, Lincoln. I'm not sure I should leave you."

"Yes, you should. You should do what I'm asking. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back and you can mother-hen me to your heart's content. But for now: Go!"

There was no sound for a moment.

"All right. But I'm checking your blood pressure first."

Another pause.

"Go ahead."

Muffled sounds, a faint hiss, the rasp of Velcro. "It's not bad. But I want to make sure it stays that way. . . . How are you feeling?"