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Using a handheld video unit, the tech scanned the wire from top to bottom, turned it over and went back the other way. What the camera saw was broadcast in high definition on the large screen in front of Rhyme. He stared intently.

He muttered, "Bennington Electrical Manufacturing, South Chicago, Illinois. Model AM-MV-60. Zero gauge, rated up to sixty thousand volts."

Pulaski gave a laugh. "You know that, Lincoln? Where'd you learn about wires?"

"It's printed on the side, Rookie."

"Oh. I didn't notice."

"Obviously. And our perp cut it to this length, Mel. What do you think? Not machine cut."

"I'd agree." Using a magnifying glass, Cooper was examining the end of the metal cable that had been bolted to the substation wire. He then focused the video on the cut ends. "Amelia?"

Their resident mechanic looked it over. "Hand hacksaw," she offered.

The split bolts were unique to the power industry, it turned out, but they could have come from dozens of sources.

The bolts affixing the wire to the bus bar were similarly generic.

"Let's get our charts going," Rhyme then said.

Pulaski wheeled several whiteboards forward from the corner of the lab. On the top of one Sachs wrote, Crime Scene: Algonquin Substation Manhattan-10, West 57th Street. On the other was UNSUB Profile. She filled in what they'd discovered so far.

"Did he get the wire at the substation?" Rhyme asked.

"No. There wasn't any stored there," the young man said.

"Then find out where he did get it. Call Bennington."

"Right."

"Okay," Rhyme continued. "We've got metalwork and hardware. That means tool marks. The hacksaw. Let's look at the wire closely."

Cooper switched to a large-object microscope, also plugged into the computer, and examined where the wire had been cut; he used low magnification. "It's a new saw blade, sharp."

Rhyme gave an envious glance toward the tech's deft hands, moving the focus and the geared stage of the 'scope. Then he returned to the screen. "New, yes, but there's a broken tooth."

"Near the handle."

"Right." Before people began to saw, they generally rested the blade on what they were about to cut, three or four times. Doing this, especially in soft aluminum like the wire, could reveal broken or bent saw teeth, or other unique patterns that could link tools found in the perp's possession to the one used in a crime.

"Now, the split bolts?"

Cooper found distinctive scratch marks on all the bolts, suggesting that the perp's wrench had probably left them.

"Love soft brass," Rhyme muttered. "Just love it. . . . So he's got well-used tools. More and more, looking like he's an insider."

Sellitto disconnected his call. "Nothing. Maybe somebody saw somebody in a blue jumpsuit. But it might've been an hour after it happened. When the whole friggin' block was crawling with Algonquin repair crews wearing friggin' blue jumpsuits."

"What've you found out, Rookie?" Rhyme barked. "I want sources for the wire."

"I'm on hold."

"Tell 'em you're a cop."

"I did."

"Tell 'em you're the chief cop. The big cheese."


Tags: Jeffery Deaver Lincoln Rhyme Mystery