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Both Sellitto and Dance turned their heads to the man who'd spoken.
Rhyme looked at the California agent. "How'd you like an all-expenses-paid night in beautiful New York City?"
She cocked an eyebrow.
The criminalist continued. "I'm wondering if you could stay for another day."
Sellitto was laughing. "Linc, I don't believe it. You're always complaining that witnesses are useless. Changing your ways?"
Rhyme frowned. "No, Lon. What I complain about is how most people handle witnesses--visceral, gut feel, all that woo-woo crap. Pointless. But Kathryn does it right--she applies a methodology based on repeatable and observable responses to stimuli and draws verifiable conclusions. Obviously it's not as good as friction ridges or reagent A-te
n in drug analysis but what she does is . . ." He looked for a word. "Helpful."
Thom laughed. "That's the best compliment you could get. Helpful."
"No need to fill in, Thom," Rhyme snapped. He turned to Dance. "So? How 'bout it?"
The woman's eyes scanned the evidence board and Rhyme noticed she wasn't focused on the cold notations of the clues, but on the pictures. Particularly the photographs of Theodore Adams's corpse, his frosted eyes staring upward.
"I'll stay," she said.
Vincent Reynolds walked slowly up the steps of the Metropolitan Museum on Fifth Avenue, out of breath by the time he got to the top. His hands and arms were very strong--helpful for when he had his heart-to-hearts with the ladies--but he got zero aerobic exercise.
Joanne, his flower girl, floated into his thought. Yes, he'd followed and come close to raping her. But at the last minute another of his incarnations had taken charge, Smart Vincent, who was the rarest of the brood. The temptation had been great but he couldn't disappoint his friend. (Vincent also didn't think it was a wise idea to give any grief to a man whose advice for dealing with conflict was to "slash the eyes.") So he'd merely checked up on her again, eaten a huge lunch and taken the train here.
He now paid and entered the museum, noticing a family--the wife resembled his sister. He'd just written the previous week asking her to come to New York for Christmas but hadn't heard back. He'd like to show her the sights. She could hardly come at the moment, of course, not while he and Duncan were busy. He hoped she'd visit soon, though. Vincent was convinced that having her more in his life would make a difference. It would provide a stability that would make him less hungry, he believed. He wouldn't need heart-to-hearts quite so often.
I really wouldn't mind changing a little bit, Dr. Jenkins.
Don't you agree?
Maybe she'd get here for New Year's. They could go to Times Square and watch the ball drop.
Vincent headed into the museum proper. There wasn't any doubt about where to find Gerald Duncan. He'd be in the area that held the important touring exhibits--the treasures of the Nile, for instance, or jewels from the British Empire. Now, the exhibit was "Horology in Ancient Times."
Horology, Duncan had explained, was the study of time and timepieces.
The killer had come here several times recently. It drew the older man the way porn shops drew Vincent. Normally distant and unemotional, Duncan always lit up when he was staring at the displays. It made Vincent happy to see his friend actually enjoying something.
Duncan was looking over some old pottery things called incense clocks. Vincent eased up next to him.
"What'd you find?" asked Duncan, who didn't turn his head. He'd seen Vincent's reflection in the glass of the display case. He was like that--always aware, always seeing what he needed to see.
"She was alone in the workshop all the time I was there. Nobody came in. She went to her store on Broadway and met this delivery guy there. They left. I called and asked for her--"
"From?"
"A pay phone. Sure."
Meticulous.
"And the clerk said she'd gone out for coffee. She'd be back in about an hour but she wouldn't be in the store. Meaning, I guess, she'd go back to the workshop."
"Good." Duncan nodded.
"And what'd you find?"
"The pier was roped off but nobody was there. I saw police boats in the river, so they haven't found the body yet. At Cedar Street I couldn't get very close. But they're taking the case real seriously. A lot of cops. There were two that seemed in charge. One of them was pretty."
