The Burning Wire (Lincoln Rhyme 9)

Rhyme had told her that while he believed forensic science could be taught, this empathy was an innate talent. And Sachs believed the best way to maintain this connection--this wire, she thought now, between your heart and your skill--was never to forget the victims.

"Ready?" she asked Pulaski.

"I guess."

"We're going to do the grid, Rhyme," she said into the microphone.

"Okay, but do it without me, Sachs."

She was alarmed. Despite his protests to the contrary, Rhyme hadn't been well. She could tell easily. But it turned out that there was another reason he was signing off. "I want you to walk the grid with that guy from Algonquin."

"Sommers?"

"Right."

"Why?"

"For one thing, I like his mind. He thinks broadly. Maybe it's his inventor's side. I don't know. But beyond that, something's not right, Sachs. I can't explain it. I feel we're missing something. Galt had to have planned this out for a month, at least. But now it looks like he's accelerating the attacks--two in one day. I can't figure that out."

"Maybe," she suggested, "it's because we've gotten on to him faster than he hoped."

"Could be. I don't know. But if

that's the case it also means he'd love to take us out too."

"True."

"So I want a fresh perspective. I've already called Charlie, and he's willing to help. . . . Does he always eat when he talks on the phone?"

"He likes junk food."

"Well, when you're on the grid, make sure he's got something that doesn't crunch. Communications will patch you in, whenever you're ready. Just get back here ASAP with whatever you find. For all we know Galt's rigging another attack right now."

They disconnected. She glanced at Ron Pulaski, who was still clearly troubled.

I need you with us, Rookie. . . .

She called him over. "Ron, the major scene's downstairs, where he probably rigged the wires and that device of his." She tapped her radio. "I'll be online with Charlie Sommers. I need you to run the elevator." Another pause. "And process the bodies too. There probably won't be much trace. His MO is he doesn't have any direct contact with the vics. But it needs to be done. Are you okay with that?"

The young officer nodded. "Anything you need, Amelia." Sounding painfully sincere. He was making amends for the accident at Galt's apartment, she guessed.

"Let's get to it. And Vicks."

"What?"

"In the kit. Vicks VapoRub. Put some underneath your nose. For the smell."

In five minutes she was online with Charlie Sommers, grateful that he was helping her in running the scene--to give "technical support," which he defined, in his irreverent way, as helping to "save her ass."

Sachs clicked on her helmet light and started down the stairs into the basement of the building, describing to Charlie Sommers exactly what she saw in the dank, filthy area at the base of the elevator shaft. She was linked to him only through audio, not video, as she usually was with Rhyme.

The building had been cleared by ESU, but she was very aware of what Rhyme had told her earlier--that Galt could easily have decided to start targeting his pursuers. She looked around for a moment, taking only a few detours to shine the light on shadows that had a vaguely human form.

They turned out to be only shadows that had a vaguely human form.

He asked, "You see anything bolted to the railings the elevator rides on?"

She focused again on her search. "No, nothing on the rails. But . . . there's a piece of that Bennington cable bolted to the wall. I'm--"