'We can associate them. Probably from the same source. And there were no other samples of the cloth fibers under her nails from the scene.'
'So the presumption is that she tore the scrap in a struggle with him.'
Sellitto asked, 'Why'd he have it with him? What was it?'
Rhyme noted that the stock was uncoated, so the scrap was likely not from a magazine. Nor was the paper newsprint, so the source probably wasn't a daily or weekly paper or tabloid.
'It's probably from a book,' he announced, staring at the triangular scrap.
'But what'd the scenario be?' Pulaski asked.
'Good question: You mean if the scrap was from the pocket of our unsub and she tore it off while grappling with him, how can the pages be from a book?'
'Right.'
'Because I would think he sliced important pages out of the book and kept them with him. I want to know what that scrap is from.'
'The easy way?' Cooper suggested.
'Oh, Google Books? Right. Or whatever that thing is called, that online service that has ninety percent or however many of the world's books in a database. Sure, give it a shot.'
But, unsurprisingly, the search returned no hits. Rhyme didn't know much about how the copyright laws worked but he suspected that there were more than a few authors of books still protected by the US Code that didn't want to share their creative sweat labor royalty-free.
'So, it's the hard way,' Rhyme announced. 'What do they call that in computer hacking? Brute-force attack?' He reflected for a moment then added, 'But we can maybe narrow down the search. Let's see if we can find out when it was printed and look for books published around then that deal with - to start - crimes. The word "bodies" is a hint there. Now, let's get a date.'
'Carbon dating?' Ron Pulaski asked, drawing a smile from Mel Cooper. 'What?' the young officer asked.
'Haven't read my chapter on radiocarbon, rookie?' Referring to Rhyme's textbook on forensic science.
'Actually I have, Lincoln.'
'And?'
Pulaski recited, 'Carbon dating is the comparison of non-degrading carbon-12 with degrading carbon-14, which will give an idea of the age of the object being tested. I said "idea"; I think you said "approximation".'
'Ah, well quoted. Just a shame you missed the footnote.'
'Oh. There were footnotes?'
'The error factor for carbon dating is thirty to forty years. And that's wi
th recent samples. If our perp had carried around a chapter printed on papyrus or dinosaur hide, the deviation would be greater.' Rhyme gestured toward the scrap. 'So, no, carbon dating isn't for us.'
'At least it would tell us if it was printed in the last thirty or forty years.'
'Well, we know that,' Rhyme snapped. 'It was printed in the nineties, I'm almost certain. I want something more specific.'
Now Sellitto was frowning. 'How do you know the decade, Linc?'
'The typeface. It's called Myriad. Created by Robert Slimbach and Carol Twombly for Adobe Systems. It became Apple's font.'
'It looks like any other sans serif font to me,' Sachs said.
'Look at the "y" descender and the slanting "e".'
'You studied that?' asked Pulaski, as if a huge gap in his forensic education threatened to swallow him whole.
Years ago Rhyme had run a kidnapping case in which the perp had crafted a ransom note by cutting letters from a magazine. He'd used characters from editorial headlines as well as from a number of advertisements. Correlating the typefaces from dozens of magazines and advertisers' logos, Rhyme had concluded it was from a particular issue of the Atlantic Monthly. A warrant for subscriber lists - and some other evidence - led to the perp's door and the rescue of the victim. He explained this to Pulaski.