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"Because I didn't let Bo's men get her right away. Are you there, Amelia?"
"I'm here."
"There are five contaminants of crime scenes," Rhyme explained. She noticed he'd gone into his low, seductive tone again. "The weather, the victim's family, the suspect, souvenir hunters. The last is the worst. Guess what it is?"
"You tell me."
"Other cops. If I'd let ESU in they could've destroyed all the trace. You know how to handle a scene now. And I'll bet you preserved everything just fine."
Sachs needed to say, "I don't think she'll ever be the same after this. The rats were all over her."
"Yes, I imagine they were. That's their nature."
Their nature . . .
"But five minutes or ten wasn't going to make any difference. She--"
Click.
She shut off the radio and walked to Walsh, the medic.
"I want to interview her. Is she too groggy?"
"Not yet. We gave her locals--to stitch the lacerations and the bites. She'll want some Demerol in a half hour or so."
Sachs smiled and crouched down beside her. "Hi, how you doing?"
The girl, fat but very pretty, nodded.
"Can I ask you some questions?"
"Yes, pleece. I want you get him."
Sellitto arrived and ambled up to them. He smiled down at the girl, who gazed at him blankly. He proffered a badge she had no interest in and identified himself.
"You all right, miss?"
The girl shrugged.
Sweating fiercely in the muggy heat, Sellitto nodded Sachs aside. "Polling been here?"
"Haven't seen him. Maybe he's at Lincoln's."
"No, I just called there. He's g
otta get to City Hall pronto."
"What's the problem?"
Sellitto lowered his voice, his doughy face twisted up. "A fuckup--our transmissions're supposed to be secure. But those fucking reporters, somebody's got an unscrambler or something. They heard we didn't go in right away to get her." He nodded toward the girl.
"Well, we didn't," Sachs said harshly. "Rhyme told ESU to wait until I got here."
The detective winced. "Man, I hope they don't have that on tape. We need Polling for damage control." He nodded to the girl. "Interviewed her yet?"
"No. Just about to." With some regret Sachs clicked on the radio and heard Rhyme's urgent voice.
". . . you there? This goddamn thing doesn't--"
