"Look at the blog posting," Rhyme continued, nodding at the documents Pulaski had wrested from Galt's printer.
My story is typical of many. I was a lineman and later a troubleman (like a supervisor) for many years working for several power companies in direct contact with lines carrying over one hundred thousand volts. It was the electromagnetic fields created by the transmission lines, that are uninsulated, that led to my leukemia, I am convinced. In addition it has been proven that power lines attract aerosol particles that lead to lung cancer among others, but this is something that the media doesn't talk about.
We need to make all the power companies but more important the public aware of these dangers. Because the companies won't do anything voluntarily, why should they? if the people stopped using electricity by even half we could save thousands of lives a year and make them (the companies) more responsible. In turn they would create safer ways to deliver electricity. And stop destroying the earth too.
People, you need to take matters into your own hands!
--Raymond Galt
"Now look at the first couple of paragraphs of the first demand letter."
At around 11:30 a.m. yesterday morning there was an arc flash incident at the MH-10 substation on W 57 Street in Manhattan, this happened by securing a Bennington cable and bus bar to a post-breaker line with two split bolts. By shutting down four substations and raising the breaker limit at MH-10 an overload of close to two hundred thous
and volts caused the flash.
This incident was entirely your fault and due to your greed and selfishness. This is typical of the industry and it is reprehensable. Enron destroyed the financial lives of people, your company destroys our physical lives and the life of the earth. By exploiting electricity without regard for it's consequences you are destroying our world, you insideously work your way into our lives like a virus, until we are dependent on what is killing us.
"What's distinctive?" Rhyme asked.
Sachs shrugged.
Pulaski pointed out, "No misspellings in the blog."
"True, Rookie, but that's not my point; the computer's spell checker would have picked up any mistakes in the blog and corrected them. I'm talking about word choice."
Sachs nodded vigorously. "Sure. The blog language is a lot simpler."
"Exactly. The blog was written by Galt himself. The letters were transcribed by him--it was his handwriting--but they were dictated by the real perp, the man who kidnapped Galt and forced him to write what he was saying. The perp used his own language, which Galt wasn't familiar with so he misspelled the big words. In the blog he never used any words like 'reprehensible.' . . . And in the other letters there're similar misspellings. In the last letter--no misspellings because the perp wrote that himself in an email."
Sellitto paced; the floor creaked. "Remember what Parker Kincaid said? Our handwriting guy? That the letter was written by somebody who was emotional, upset--because he was being threatened to take the dictation. That'd make anybody upset. And he also forced Galt to handle the switches and hard hat so they'd have his prints on them."
Rhyme nodded. "In fact, I'll bet the blog postings were real. Hell, they were probably how the perp picked Galt in the first place. He'd read how angry Galt was about the power industry."
A moment later his eyes took in the physical evidence itself: the cables, the nuts and bolts.
And the generator. He gazed at it for a moment.
Then he called up word processing software on his computer and began to type. His neck and temple throbbed--this time, though, not as a prelude to an attack, but a sign that his heart was pounding hard with excitement.
Hunt lust.
Foxes, not wolves . . .
"Well," McDaniel muttered, ignoring an incoming phone call. "If that's right, I don't think it is, but if it's right, who the hell's behind it?"
Typing slowly, the criminalist continued, "Let's think about the facts. We'll discount all the evidence specifically implicating Galt; for the moment let's assume it's been planted. So, the short blond hair is out, the tools are out, the boots are out, his uniform, gear bag, hard hat, friction ridges. All of those are out.
"Okay, so what else do we have? We've got a Queens connection--the taramasalata. He tried to destroy the access door we found it on so we know that evidence is real. We've got the handgun. So the real perp has access to weapons. We've got a geographic connection to the City Hall area--the trace we found in the generator. We've got hair--long blond and short brown. That suggests two perps. One definitely male, rigging the attacks. The other unknown, but probably a woman. What else do we know?"
"He's from out of town," Dellray pointed out.
Pulaski said, "Knowledge of arc flashes and how to create the booby traps."
"Good," Rhyme said.
Sellitto said, "One of them has access to Algonquin facilities."
"Possibly, though they could have used Galt for that."