The Burial Hour (Lincoln Rhyme 13)

"The more injured you are, the more everyone will think you are innocent. Bleed, you should bleed. They will think it was a suicide bomb at first and you are merely another victim."

"Yes."

"I am going now."

"My family..."

"They are relying on you to make sure this happens."

There was the click of disconnection.

Rhyme muttered, "Any location for his phone?"

McKenzie said, "No. The NSA bot wasn't tracking GPS. Just recording."

Again the map of Naples took his attention.

Spiro said, "Can we tell anything more about the site of the attack from their conversation? It seemed like an event of sorts today. Fourteen hundred hours. And something that will draw media. What could it be?"

"In the aft

ernoon. A sports event? A store opening? A concert?"

"On Monday, though?" Ercole asked.

Rhyme said, "There's a stone arch, a doorway she'll hide in. For protection from the blast."

Ercole scoffed. "That is about three-quarters of Naples."

Silence for a moment.

Then Rhyme said, "Dante, you asked if we can we tell anything more from the recording. You meant the conversation. What about what isn't in the conversation?"

"The background sounds, you mean?"

"Exactly."

"It's a good thought." Spiro said to McKenzie, "Can you send the recording to the email here? We will put it through good speakers, so we can hear better." The inspector gave her the address.

A moment later the computer chimed. Rossi nodded to Ercole, who looked over the in-box and downloaded what Rhyme could see was an MP3 file.

The young man typed keys and the conversation played again. Through these speakers the words were much more distinct. But try though he might to hear past Gianni's and Fatima's words, Rhyme could draw no conclusions about the source of the sounds.

"Hopeless," Rossi said.

"Maybe not," Rhyme offered.

Chapter 64

Stefan Merck was a curious man.

Shy, and with eyes that were dark yet glowed in a child's glimmer. An innocence about his round face.

Still, he was large and strong as an engine, Rhyme could see. Just his genes, probably. He didn't have the physique of someone who worked out.

His hands were shackled when he was brought to the situation room. Rhyme said, "Take them off."

Spiro considered this, nodded to the officer with Stefan and spoke in Italian.