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Then Mel Cooper interrupted his thoughts. "Chromatograph results from the carpet." He explained that it was a wool-nylon blend. He determined the color temperature of the gray shade and then went online, logging into the FBI's carpet-fiber database.
A few minutes later the results popped onto the screen. "It's Lustre-Rite brand and the manufacturer's Arnold Textile and Carpeting in Wallingham, Mass. I've got phone numbers," the slim man said.
"Get somebody calling them," Rhyme said. "We want to know about installations in Lower Manhattan. Recent, you think, Mel?"
"Probably. With this many fibers."
"Why that?" Li asked.
The tech explained, "Most fiber loss from carpets happens within six months of installation, give or take."
"I'll do it," Sellitto said. "Only don't hope for miracles, considering the company's probably been closed for hours." He nodded at the clock. It was nearly 11 P.M.
Rhyme said, "It's a manufacturing company. And what does that mean?"
"I don't know, Linc. Why don't you tell me?" Sellitto grumbled. Nobody was in the mood for object lessons.
"That there's probably a night shift. And a night shift means a foreman, and a foreman'll have the boss's number at home. In case of fire or some such."
"I'll see what I can do."
Cooper was testing the trace Sachs had found in the Blazer. "More of the bentonite," he said. "On both the Ghost's shoes and on his partners'." The slim man turned to the microscope and examined another bit of material. "What do you think, Lincoln. Is this mulch?" He looked up from the 'scope. "Came from the SUV's carpet, driver's side."
"Command, input, microscope," Rhyme ordered. The image that Cooper was looking at in the microscope came up on Rhyme's computer screen. The criminalist saw what he recognized immediately as traces of fresh cedar mulch, the sort used in decorative gardens. "Good."
"Lot of landscaping around Battery Park City," Sellito pointed out, referring to the large residential development in downtown Manhattan, where the trace evidence they'd found earlier had suggested the Ghost
might maintain his safehouse.
Too much landscaping, though, thought Rhyme. "Trace it to a particular manufacturer?"
"Nup," Cooper said. "Generic."
Well, this sample alone wouldn't pin down a particular location. The fact that the mulch was still damp, however, might help. "If we find a number of possible locations we can eliminate the ones that didn't have mulching done in the past few days. Long shot, but it's something." Then Rhyme asked, "How about the body?"
"Not much," she said. She explained that the man had had no identification on him--only some cash, about $900, extra ammo for his weapon, cigarettes and a lighter. "Oh, and a knife, which had traces of blood on it."
Cooper had already ordered the typing test on the blood. But Rhyme knew it would match Jerry Tang's or Jimmy Mah's.
AFIS results came back on the prints from the Blazer and from the dead man. All negative.
Sonny Li pointed to a Polaroid of the face of the corpse. "Hey, I got it right, Loaban. His face--check it out. He's Kazakh, Kyrgyz, Tajik, Uighur. A minority, like I telling you, remember?"
"I remember, Sonny," Rhyme said to him. "Call our friend from the tong--Cai. Tell him that we think the gang is of those minorities you mentioned, Sonny. Might help him narrow things down." Then he asked, "Ballistics?"
"The Ghost was still using his Model 51," Sachs said.
Li offered, "I'm saying, very solid-rock gun."
"I found some nine-millimeter casings too." She held the evidence bag up. "But no distinctive ejection marks. Probably a new Beretta, SIG Sauer, Smittie or Colt."
"And the dead guy's weapon?"
"I processed it," she explained. "His prints only. It was an old Walther PPK. Seven-point-six-five."
"Where is it?" Rhyme studied the evidence bag and saw no sign of the weapon.
A look passed between Sachs and Sonny Li--a look decidedly not for Detective Lon Sellitto. She said, "I think the feds have it."
