The Kill Room (Lincoln Rhyme 10) - Page 57

"The rule that you have to know the geography when you run a crime scene."

"I needed to learn the basic information about geology and flora and fauna that might help me here. The fact that nobody invaded after Fort Charlotte was built is pointless to me, so I didn't bother to learn that. Lizards and parrots and Kalik beer and mangroves might be relevant. So I read up on them on the flight. What were you reading?"

"Uhm, People."

Rhyme scoffed.

The lizard blinked and twisted its head but otherwise remained motionless.

Rhyme removed his mobile phone from his shirt pocket. The prior surgery, on his right arm and hand, had been quite successful. The movements were slightly off, compared with those of a non-disabled limb, but they were smooth enough so that an onlooker might not notice they weren't quite natural. His cell was an iPhone and he'd spent hours practicing the esoteric skills of swiping the screen and calling up apps. He'd had his fill of voice-recognition, because of his condition, so he'd put Siri to sleep. He now used the recent calls feature to dial a number with one touch. A richly accented woman's voice said, "Police, do you have an emergency?"

"No, no emergency. Could I speak to Corporal Poitier, please?"

"One moment, sir."

A blessedly short period of hold. "Poitier speaking."

"Corporal?"

"That's right. Who is this, please?"

"Lincoln Rhyme."

Silence for a lengthy moment. "Yes." The single word contained an abundance of uncertainty and ill ease. Casinos were far safer places for conversations than the man's office.

Rhyme continued, "I would have given you my own credit card. Or called you back on my line."

"I couldn't speak any longer. And I'm quite busy now."

"The missing student?"

"Indeed," said the richly inflected baritone.

"Do you have any leads?"

There was a pause. "Not so far. It's been over twenty-four hours. No word at her school or part-time job. She most recently had been seeing a man from Belgium. He appears to be very distraught but..." He let the lingering words fade to smoke. Then he said, "I'm afraid I'm unable to help you in regard to your case."

"Corporal, I'd like to meet with you."

The fattest silence yet. "Meet?"

"Yes."

"Well, how can that be?"

"I'm in Nassau. I'd suggest someplace other than police headquarters. We can meet wherever you like."

"But...I...You're here?"

"Away from the office might be better," Rhyme repeated.

"No. That's impossible. I can't meet you."

"I really must talk to you," Rhyme said.

"No. I have to go, Captain." There was a desperation in his voice.

Rhyme said briskly, "Then we'll come to your office."

Tags: Jeffery Deaver Lincoln Rhyme Mystery
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