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"We really need to know," Sachs said, playing good cop to Sellitto's bad. "We don't want anybody else to get hurt. This man is very dangerous."
A sigh floated over the man's debate. "Well, I suppose SSD is the main one. They're pretty big. But if you're thinking that somebody from there was involved in a crime, impossible. They're the greatest guys in the world. And there's security, there's--"
"Where are they based?" Sachs asked.
Another hesitation. Come on, damnit, Rhyme thought.
"In New York City."
Five Twenty-Two's playground. The criminalist caught Sachs's eye. He smiled. This was looking promising.
"Any others in the area?"
"No. Axciom, Experian and Choicepoint, the other big ones, aren't around here. But, believe me, nobody from SSD could be involved. I swear."
"What does SSD stand for?" Rhyme asked.
"Strategic Systems Datacorp."
"Do you have a contact there?"
"Not anybody in particular exactly." He said this fast. Too fast.
"You don't?"
"Well, there are sales reps we deal with. I can't recall their names at the moment. I could check it and find out."
"Who runs the company?"
Another pause. "That would be Andrew Sterling. He's the founder and CEO. Look, I guarantee nobody there would do anything illegal. Impossible."
Then Rhyme realized something: The man was scared. Not of the police. Of SSD itself. "What are you worried about?"
"It's just . . ." In a confessional tone he said, "We couldn't function without them. We're really . . . partnered with them."
Though, from his tone, the spurious verb seemed to mean "desperately dependent on."
"We'll be discreet," Sachs said.
"Thank you. Really. Thank you." The relief was obvious.
Sachs politely thanked him for his cooperation, drawing an eye roll from Sellitto.
Rhyme disconnected. "Data mining? Anybody heard of it?"
Thom said, "I don't know SSD but I've heard of data miners. It's the business of the twenty-first century."
Rhyme glanced at the evidence chart. "So if Five Twenty-Two works for SSD or is one of their customers he could find out everything he'd need about who bought shave cream, rope, condoms, fishing line--all the evidence he could plant." Then another idea struck him. "The head of the shoe company said that they sell the data for mailing lists. Arthur had gotten some direct mail about that Prescott painting, remember? Five Twenty-Two could have found out about it from their mailing lists. Maybe Alice Sanderson was on a list too."
"And look--the crime-scene photos." Sachs walked to the whiteboards and poin
ted to several pictures from the coin-theft scene. Direct-mail pieces sat prominently on the tables and floor.
Pulaski said, "And, sir? Detective Cooper mentioned E-ZPass. If this SSD mines their data, then the killer might've been able to find out exactly when your cousin was in the city and when he headed home."
"Jesus," Sellitto muttered. "If it's true, this guy's stumbled on one hell of an M.O."
"Check out this data mining, Mel. Google it. I want to know for sure if SSD is the only one in the area."
