The Skin Collector (Lincoln Rhyme Book 11) by Deaver Jeffery

Author:Deaver, Jeffery [Deaver, Jeffery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2014-05-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 36

W here 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.

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