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Rhyme glanced at Sachs, who caught the cue and asked Susan, "You said there was something that might help us?"

"Yes, I think I saw him."

Despite his distrust of witnesses, Rhyme said encouragingly, "Go ahead. Please."

"He got onto the elevator at my floor."

"You think it was him? Why?"

"Because he spilled some water. Accidentally, it seemed, but now I know he did it on purpose. To improve the connection."

Sachs said, "The water that Ron found on the soles of their shoes. Sure. We wondered where that came from."

"He was dressed like a maintenance man with a watering can for the plants. He was wearing brown overalls. Kind of dirty. It seemed odd. And the building doesn't have plants in the hall and we don't in our office."

"There's still a team there?" Rhyme asked Sachs.

She said that there would be. "Fire, maybe. Not PD."

"Have them call the building manager, wake him up if they have to. See if they have a plant maintenance service. And check video security."

A few minutes later they had their answer: no plant waterers for the building or any of the companies on the eighth floor. And security cameras were only in the lobby, with wide-angle lenses uselessly showing "a bunch of people coming, a bunch of people going," one of the fire marshals reported. "Can't make out a single face."

Rhyme called up the DMV picture of Galt on the screen. "Is that him?" he asked Susan.

"Could be. He didn't look at us and I didn't look at him really." A knowing glance toward Rhyme. "His face wasn't exactly at eye level."

"Anything else you remember about him?"

"When he was walking toward the car and then when he first got in, he kept looking at his watch."

"The deadline," Sachs pointed out. Then added, "He set it off early, though."

"Only a few minutes," Rhyme said. "Maybe he was worried that somebody'd recognized him in the building. He wanted to finish up and get out. And he was probably monitoring Algonquin's electrical transmissions and knew the company wasn't going to shut down the juice by the deadline."

Susan continued, "He was wearing gloves. Tan gloves. They were leather. . . . Those were at eye level. And I remember them because I was thinking his hands must be sweating. It was hot in the car."

"Did the uniform have any writing on it?"

"No."

"Anything else?"

She shrugged. "Not that it's helpful, but he was rude."

"Rude?"

"When he got on the elevator he pushed past me. Didn't apologize or anything."

"He actually touched you?"

"Not me." She nodded down. "The chair. It was kind of a tight squeeze."

"Mel!"

The tech's head swiveled toward them.

"Susan," Rhyme asked. "Do you mind if we examine that spot on your chair?"


Tags: Jeffery Deaver Lincoln Rhyme Mystery