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"I know it's bullshit. They what? . . . Oh, great. I'll call you when I find out what's going on." He snapped the phone closed so hard Rhyme wondered if he'd broken it. He raised an eyebrow. "They just confiscated everything in my desk."
Pulaski asked, "How the hell do you fight somebody like this?"
It was then that Rodney Szarnek called on Sellitto's mobile. He set it to speakerphone. "What's wrong with the landline there?"
"The prick got the electricity shut off. We're working on it. What's up?"
"The list of SSD customers, from the CD. We found something. One customer downloaded pages of data about all victims and fall guys the day before each killing."
"Who is it?"
"His name's Robert Carpenter."
Rhyme said, "Okay. Good. What's his story?"
"All I have is what's on the spreadsheet. He's got his own company in Midtown. Associated Warehousing."
Warehousing? Rhyme was thinking of the place where Joe Malloy was murdered. Was there a connection?
"Have an address?"
The tech specialist recited it.
After disconnecting, Rhyme noted Pulaski was frowning. The young officer said, "I think we saw him at SSD."
"Who?"
"Carpenter. When we were there yesterday. A big, bald guy. He was in a meeting with Sterling. He didn't seem happy."
"Happy? What does that mean?"
"I don't know. Just an impression."
"Not helpful." Rhyme said, "Mel, check this Carpenter out."
Cooper called downtown on his mobile. He spoke for a few minutes, moving closer to the window for the light, then jotted notes. He disconnected. "You don't seem to like the word 'interesting,' Lincoln, but it is. I've got the NCIC and department database results. Robert Carpenter. Lives on the Upper East Side. Single. And, get this, he's got a record. Some credit card fraud and bad-check busts. Did six months in Waterbury. And he was arrested in a corporate extortion scheme. Those charges were dropped but he went nuts when they came to pick him up, tried to swing at the agent. They dropped those charges when he agreed to go into ED counseling."
"Emotionally disturbed?" Rhyme nodded. "And his company's in the warehousing business. Just the line of work for a hoarder. . . . Okay, Pulaski, find out where this Carpenter was when Amelia's town house got broken into."
"Yes, sir." Pulaski was lifting his phone from its holster when the unit trilled. He glanced at caller ID. He answered. "Hi, hon--What? . . . Hey, Jenny, calm down. . . ."
Oh, no . . . Lincoln Rhyme knew that 522 had attacked on yet another front.
"What? Where are you? . . . Take it easy, it's just a mistake." The rookie's voice was shaking. "It'll all get taken care of. . . . Give me the address. . . . Okay, I'll be right there."
He snapped shut the phone, closed his eyes momentarily. "I have to go."
"What's wrong?" Rhyme asked.
"Jenny's been arrested. By the INS."
"Immigration?"
"She got put on a watch list at Homeland Security. They're saying she's illegal and a security threat."
"Isn't she--?"
"Our great-grandparents were citizens," Pulaski snapped. "Jesus." The young officer was wild-eyed. "Brad's at Jenny's mom's but she has the baby with her now. They're transporting her to detention--and they may take the baby. If they do that . . . Oh, man." Pure despair filled his face. "I have to go." His eyes told Rhyme that nothing would stop him being with his wife.
