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'I was keeping tabs on him. The night he went to your town house, I was following. He wasn't supposed to kill you, hurt you in any way. When he changed into a workman's uniform and got a needle ready, I knew what he was up to.'
This made no sense at all.
Until a moment later another deduction. Rhyme whispered, 'You need me for something. You need me alive. Why? To investigate a crime, of course. Yes, yes. But which one? One committed recently?' What open major cases were there? Rhyme wondered. Then realized. 'Or one that's going to happen? Next week?'
'Or next month or next year,' the Watchmaker offered, sounding amused.
'The Metropolitan museum breakin? Or something else?'
No word.
'Why me?'
A pause. 'I'll just say that the plan I've put together needs you.'
'And it needs me to be aware of it,' Rhyme shot back. 'So my knowing is a gear or a spring or a flywheel in your timepiece.'
A laugh. 'How well put. It's so refreshing to talk to somebody who gets it ... But now I should be going, Lincoln.'
'One last question?'
'Of course. Answering may be a different matter.'
'You told Billy to find that book, Serial Cities.'
'That's right. I needed to make sure he and the Stantons appreciated how good you were - and how much you and Amelia had learned about the militias and their tactics.'
Rhyme said ruefully, 'You had no particular interest in the Bone Collector? I got that wrong.'
'I guess you did.'
A laugh and Rhyme said, 'So the connection I found between the Bone Collector and you wasn't there at all?'
A pause.
'You found a connection between us?' The Watchmaker sounded curious.
'There's a famous watch on display here in Manhattan. It's made entirely out of bone. Some Russian, I think. I wondered if stealing that was on your agenda.'
'There's a Mikhail Semyonovitch Bronnikov in town?'
'I think that was it. And you didn't know?'
The Watchmaker said, 'I've been rather ... preoccupied lately. But I'm familiar with the piece. It's quite astonishing. Mid-1860s. And you're right: made entirely of bone, one hundred percent.'
'I suppose it wouldn't make sense for you to risk getting caught - and waste the time, so to speak - trying to break into a Manhattan antiques store to steal a watch.'
'No, but it was creative thinking, Lincoln. Just what I'd expect of you.' Another pause. Rhyme imagined that he was checking his own timepiece. 'Now I think it's best to say goodbye, Lincoln. I've been on the line a little too long. Sometimes those proxies and phone switches can be traced, you know. Not that you'd ever try.' A chuckle. 'Till we meet again ...'
Next week, next month, next year.
The line went dead.
VI
SKIN AND BONE
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 12
