But their voices were humorless and, Sachs noticed, as they started down the path once more each one of them carefully lifted their feet well over the glistening strand.
Lincoln Rhyme, head back, eyes squinting at the chalkboard.
FOUND AT SECONDARY CRIME SCENE-- GARRETT'S ROOM
Skunk Musk
Cut Pine Needles
Drawings of Insects
Pictures of Mary Beth and Family
Insect Books
Fishing Line
Money
Unknown Key
Kerosene
Ammonia
Nitrates
Camphene
He sighed angrily. Felt completely helpless. The evidence was inexplicable to him.
His eyes focused on: Insect Books.
Then glanced at Ben. "So. You're a student, are you?"
"That's right, sir."
"Read a lot, I'll bet."
"How I spend most of my time--if I'm not in the field."
Rhyme was gazing at the spines of the books that Amelia had brought from Garrett's room. He mused, "What do a person's favorite books say about them? Other than the obvious--that they're interested in the subject of the books, I mean."
"How's that?"
"Well, if a person has mostly self-help books, that says one thing about them. If he's got mostly novels, that says something else. These books of Garrett's are all nonfiction guidebooks. What do you make of that?"
"I wouldn't know, sir." The big man glanced once at Rhyme's legs--involuntarily, it seemed--then he turned his attention to the evidence chart. He mumbled, "I can't really figure out people. Animals make a lot more sense to me. They're a lot more social, more predictable, more consistent than people. Hell of a lot more clever too." Then he realized he was rambling and, with a ruddy blush, stopped talking.
Rhyme glanced again at the books. "Thom, could you get me the turning frame?" Rigged to an ECU--an environmental-control unit--that Rhyme could manipulate with his one working finger, the device used a rubber armature to turn pages of books. "It's in the van, isn't it?"
"I think so."
"I hope you packed it. I told you to pack it."
"I said I think it is," the aide said evenly. "I'll go see if it's there." He left the room.
Hell of a lot more clever too ...