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But then why was he lifting Alexander's jacket and shirt and staring at his abdomen intently? And reaching forward and stroking the skin with a rigid, probing finger?
Has to be ... only ...
Blackness enwrapped him completely.
CHAPTER 36
'Where are you, Sachs?'
'Almost there.' Her voice was echoing through the speaker in Rhyme's parlor. The criminalist was here with Pulaski and Cooper, while Amelia Sachs was presently streaking across Central Park, one of the traverses, headed east. 'Hanging up. Gotta drive.'
It turned out there were forty-eight places in Manhattan in which 'Belvedere' figured in the name. This had been the conclusion of yet another team that Lon Sellitto had assembled at One Police Plaza. There'd been the Find-the-Out-of-Print-Book team, now disbanded. Then the current What-the-Fuck-Do-the-Words-the-Second-and-Forty-Mean team, still active.
Now the Which-Belvedere-Is-It team, assembled thanks to skin artist Anne Thomson's fortuitous eavesdropping.
Four dozen instances of Belvedere in Manhattan (which seemed to be 11-5's preferred hunting borough; besides, you can't search everywhere).
Delis, apartment buildings, transport companies, boutiques, a cab company, a ferry.
An escort service.
A half hour ago, in Rhyme's parlor, he and Sachs, along with Sellitto, Cooper and Pulaski, had debated which of the Belvederes were the most likely to be connected to the unsub. Of course, the name might have nothing to do with the next or a future target. It could be where he lived, or near where he lived, or his dry cleaner or where he boarded his cat. Or a business he was curious about. But, being cautious, they assumed it was a kill site and wanted to get tac teams to the most likely ones ASAP.
They'd decided three were good candidates for an attack. One was a deserted warehouse in the Chelsea area of Manhattan - north of Greenwich Village. It featured an extensive labyrinth of underground passages and storerooms. Perfect for their unsub's purposes, though Cooper had made the point that it might be a little too deserted. 'He needs to get a victim from somewhere.'
Rhyme considered this but tapped into some CCTV images there and noted that it had more pedestrian traffic than you'd think - including even some joggers out on this blustery day.
'He only needs one,' Rhyme pointed out.
Sellitto'd called ESU to have a team sent there.
The second Belvedere was an old movie theater on the Upper West Side, the sort of grande dame you used to see on Broadway, the ornate venues where Clark Gable or Marilyn Monroe would open films. It was closed at this hour and, according to one of Rhyme's underground diagrams, had a number of basements, just the place for Unsub 11-5 to take his victims. Another ESU team was sent there.
The final possibility was an apartment building on Midtown's East Side named the Belvedere. A grimy old structure, like the gothic Dakota. It featured both a large basement and an underground parking garage. The detective arranged for a third team to speed there.
Sachs had said, 'Smells like that's the one. I'll go too.'
Rhyme had noted her eyes, that huntress look, the undeterred focus. Which he found so appealing, and so unnerving, at the same time. Sachs was one of the best crime scene cops Rhyme had ever known. But she was never more alive than when leading a dynamic entry in a tactical scenario.
She'd sprinted out the door, pulling her jacket on as she went. Sellitto had followed shortly after.
Now Rhyme got a message from Sellitto, also mobile, reporting that a tac team had hit the Belvedere warehouse in Chelsea and found nothing. ESU commander Bo Haumann had left a small surveillance team and divided up the others; one group was heading to the Belvedere Apartments and one to the theater, which was massive; the search would take some time.
Just after he disconnected, his phone line rang again. 'Rhyme?' Sachs's voice came through the speakers.
'Just heard from Lon,' he told her. He explained that the warehouse was a bust. 'But that means you're getting some reinforcements. An ESU team's headed to the apartment building where you are.'
'Not are, Rhyme,' she muttered. 'Will be. Traffic's lousy. And nobody knows how to drive in this weather. I'm on the sidewalk. Hold on.' Rhyme heard a crash as presumably her Torino reseated itself on New York City asphalt. He wondered about debilitating damage to the drive train or the axles. 'At this rate, ten minutes. And it's just 'cross town. Jesus.'
Rhyme noted another incoming call on his phone.
'I'll call you back, Sachs. ESU's on the other line.'
'Lincoln, you there?' It was Haumann.
'Yes, Bo. What's the status?'
'Tac Team Two's almost to the Belvedere Apartments. We'll hit the basement in the building and the garage too. Any more evidence that he's armed?' Haumann would be remembering the earlier incident, at the hospital in Marble Hill, where Unsub 11-5 had threatened to shoot Harriet Stanton and Sachs.
