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She turned, staring at the young man in the tan leather jacket and green NY Mets cap. He carried a backpack and a canvas work bag.

Silence for a moment.

Then she smiled. 'Billy.'

'Aunt Harriet.' Billy Haven looked around to make certain they were alone and then stepped inside the room. He set down the bags.

She lifted her hands, palm up. Like summoning a child.

Billy hesitated then came to her and let himself be drawn into her arms, which closed around him, enwrapping him tightly. They were about the same height - she was just under six feet herself - and Harriet easily maneuvered her face to his, kissing him hard on the mouth.

She sensed him resist for a moment but then he gave in and kissed her back, gripping her lips with his, tasting her. Not wanting to but unable to stop.

It had always been this way with him: reluctant at first, then yielding ... then growing commanding as he pushed her down on her back and wrestled off clothing.

Always this way - from the very first time, more than a decade ago, when she'd pulled the boy into the study above the garage, the Oleander Room, for their afternoon trysts, while Matthew was busy with - aunt and nephew sometimes joked - God knew what.

CHAPTER 58

Typically - and irritatingly - Rodney Szarnek was listening to some god-awful rock when he picked up the call from Rhyme's parlor.

'Rodney, you're on speaker. It's ... Can we lose the music?'

If you could call that head-banging crap music.

'Hey, Lincoln. That's you, right?'

Rhyme turned to Sachs and rolled his eyes.

The cyber detective was probably half deaf.

'Rodney, we have a situation.'

'Yup. Go on.'

Rhyme explained about the bombs and where they'd been set - near key International Fiber Optic Networks routers and under the company's headquarters.

'Man, that's tough, Lincoln.'

'I have no idea what the detonator timing situation is. It's possible we can't render-safe before one or maybe all of them go off.'

'Are you evacuating?'

'Under way right now. They're gunpowder bombs, not plastic explosives - that we know - so we don't think there's a risk of major casualties. But the infrastructure damage could be significant.'

'Oh.'

The detective didn't sound concerned. Was he checking his iPod for a new song list?

'How can I help?' he finally asked, as if his sole purpose was to fill the growing silence.

'Whom should we call, what precautions should we take?'

'For what?' the computer cop asked.

Jesus Christ. What was the disconnect? 'Rodney. If. The. Bombs. Go. Off. The Internet - what precautions should we take?'

More silence. 'You're asking if bombs take out a couple of the fiber-optic routers.'

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