AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No fingerprints on it. Or anything else.
The noose that had been used to try to murder Robert Ellis was made of two gut instrument strings tied together in a carrick bend knot. This was a common knot, Rhyme knew; knowing how to tie it did not suggest any special nautical or other professional background.
The gut strings, larger versions of the calling card the schoolgirl had found, were for an upright bass. Rhyme had little hope that they'd find a clerk who'd remember a purchaser like the Composer, given their skimpy description of him...and the fact that there were thousands of musicians in the area who'd use such strings.
To break into the factory, the Composer had sliced through the chain at the gate with a bolt cutter and replaced it with his own. Both the lock and chain were generic.
The battery-powered router and Wi-Fi-enabled webcam--which had apparently alerted him to the police's arrival--were similarly untraceable.
A canvass by dozens of officers found no witnesses to follow up on the boy who'd reported that somebody resembling the Composer had fled the plant around the time of the fire.
After the information went up on the board, Rhyme wheeled in front of it.
Sachs too gazed. She called up a map of the area on one of the big-screen monitors. She tapped the place to the north of the factory, about where he'd escaped, and said absently, "Where the hell're you going?"
Sellitto, also looking over the chart, said, "He's got a car. He can drive home. He can drive to a subway and take the train, leave the car on the street. He can--"
Rhyme had a fast thought. "Sachs!"
She, Sellitto and Cooper were looking toward him. They seemed alarmed. Maybe it was his angered expression.
"What, Rhyme?"
"What you just asked."
"Where he lives."
"No, you didn't ask that. You asked where he was going?"
"Well, I meant, where's his home."
"Forget that." He scanned the chart. "Those scraps of paper you found? The photo paper?
"Right."
"Play jigsaw puzzle with them. See how they fit together."
After pulling on gloves she opened the plastic evidence envelope and arranged the slips. "They make a frame, see? Something was cut out of the middle. A perfect square."
Rhyme then consulted his computer. He asked, "One that measures fifty-one centimeters by fifty-one, by any chance?"
Sachs applied a ruler. She laughed. "Exactly."
Sellitto grunted, "How the hell'd you know that, Linc?"
"Goddamn it." He nodded at the burned triangle of paper, containing the mysterious code.
CASH T
EXCHA
CONVER
TRANSAC
More typing. Rhyme reviewed the screen and said, "Try this: 'Cash Tendered. Exchange Rate. Converted Amount. Transaction Amount.'" He nodded at the screen. "I found a receipt from a currency exchange. That's what it is. And the square cut out of the glossy paper. It's the size--"
Sellitto filled in, "A passport photo. Oh, hell."
