"I'm glad," Rhyme grumbled, "I've set such a high bar."
Then the subject, and its awkward accoutrements, vanished like snow on a hot car hood. The men fell silent.
Two hours later the door to the operating suites opened and another doctor emerged. Again, all eyes latched onto the green-scrubbed man but this one was Sachs's surgeon and he headed directly toward Rhyme and Thom.
As the others in the room returned to their vending-machine coffee and magazines and text messages, the surgeon looked from Thom to Rhyme. He said, "It went well. She's fine. She's awake. She's asking for you."
The Recipes of Jacob Swann