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"I was careful not to contaminate the scene too much, though."
"To save lives, contaminate to your heart's content. Remember that."
"Sure."
The criminalist continued, "You walked the grid at the manhole--and where he cut through the grating? And the tunnel?"
"Yessir."
"Anything jump out?"
"Just footprints. But I've got trace."
"We'll see what it says."
Thom whispered firmly, "Lincoln?"
"Just a minute more. Now, I need you to do something else, Rookie. You see that restaurant or coffee shop across the street from the power station?"
The officer looked to his right. "I've got it. . . . Wait, how'd you know there was one there?"
"Oh, from one of my neighborhood strolls," Rhyme said, chuckling.
"I . . ." The young man was flustered.
"I know because there has to be one. Our UNSUB wanted to be able to see the substation for the attack. He couldn't watch from a hotel room because he'd have to register, or an office building because it would be too s
uspicious. He'd be someplace where he could sit at his leisure."
"Oh, I get it. You mean psychologically, he gets off on watching the fireworks."
The time for compliments was over. "Jesus Christ, Rookie, that's profiling. How do I feel about profiling?"
"Uhm. You're not exactly a big fan, Lincoln."
Rhyme caught Sachs, in the background, smiling.
"He needed to see how the device was working. He'd created something unique. His arc flash gun isn't the sort of thing he could test-fire at a rifle range. He had to make adjustments to the voltage and the circuit breakers as he went along. He had to make sure it discharged at the exact moment when the bus was there. He started manipulating the grid computer at eleven-twenty and in ten minutes it was all over. Go talk to the manager at the restaurant--"
"Coffee shop."
"--of the coffee shop and see if anybody was inside, near a window, for a while before the explosion. He would've left right after, before police and fire got there. Oh, and find out if they have broadband and who's the provider."
Thom, now in rubber gloves, was gesturing impatiently.
The piss and shit detail . . .
Pulaski said, "Sure, Lincoln."
"And then--"
The young officer interrupted, "Seal off the restaurant and walk the grid where he was sitting."
"Exactly right, Rookie. Then both of you, get the hell back here ASAP."
With a flick of one of his working fingers Rhyme ended the call, beating Thom's own digit to the button by a millisecond.
Chapter 10
