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'Could be. A human face. Way creepy.' He closed his eyes for a minute, actually shivered.
Sachs showed him the Identi-Kit picture that the near-victim Harriet Stanton had done at the hospital. Seth looked at it but just shook his head. 'Could be - the face was round like that. The eyes're the same. But I just can't be sure. I'm trying to think about what he was wearing. I really can't remember. Something dark, I think. But it could've been orange tie-dye, for all I know. Seeing that mask and the tattoo, I was really frea
ked out.'
'Wonder why?' Sachs offered with a droll smile.
'I better call my parents. They might hear about this. I want to tell them I'm okay.'
'Sure.'
While Seth did this, dialing with shaking hands, Sachs called Rhyme. She gave him the details. 'Cheyenne's running the scene.'
'Good.'
'She'll get everything over to you in a half hour.'
He disconnected.
Seth winced as he pressed his bandaged left wrist, the one that had taken the bulk of his weight and been cut by the handcuffs. 'What does he want, Amelia? Why's he doing this?'
'We aren't sure. It seems he was inspired by a perp Lincoln and I investigated years go. The first case we worked together.'
'Oh, Pam told me about that. The Bone Collector, right?'
'That's the one.'
'Serial killer?'
'Not technically. Serial killing's a sado-sexual crime - if the perp's male. The criminal a decade ago had another agenda and so does this one. The first killer was obsessed with bones; our unsub's obsessed with skin. 'Cause we stopped him a few times, he's turned on us. He must've found out Pam and I are close and he went after her. You had the bad luck to be here at the wrong time.'
'Better me than Pam. I--'
'Seth!'
The front door to the building flew open and Pam, breathless after her run from the subway burst into the hall. She threw herself into his arms before he had even risen to his feet. He wobbled and nearly fell.
'Are you all right?'
'Fine, I guess,' he muttered. 'Bumped and scraped a little.' Seth glanced at her with hollow eyes, wary eyes. It was as if he were struggling to keep from blaming her for the attack. Pam noticed, frowned. She wiped tears then swiped away strands of hair plastered to her pink cheeks.
Sachs put her arm around the girl, sensed the tension and let go. She stepped back.
'What happened?' Pam asked.
The detective explained, not sparing any details. Given the difficult life that Pam had experienced, she wasn't a person you had to hand-feed hard news to.
Still, her taut face seemed to take on an accusatory gaze as she listened to the story, as if it was Sachs's fault the killer had come here. Sachs dug a fingernail into her thumb, hard.
Cheyenne Edwards appeared in the doorway, still in coveralls but without the face mask or surgeon's cap. She carted a milk crate containing a dozen plastic and paper bags.
'Chey, how's it look?'
The officer grimaced and said to Sachs, 'Had to save his life, did you? I mean, could you get any more outsiders into that storeroom? One of the most contaminated scenes I've ever run.' She laughed and then winked at the young man. 'Can I roll you?'
'Can you--?'
'The perp touched you, right?'
