Vetter heard: "Naw, it's not terrorists. It's some disgruntled worker. Like a lineman for the company. They showed his picture on TV."
Then Sam Vetter had a thought. He asked one of his fellow businessmen, "You know what he looks like?"
"Just he's in his forties. And is maybe wearing company overalls and a yellow hard hat. The overalls're blue."
"Oh, my God. I think I saw him. Just a little while ago."
"What?"
"I saw a worker in blue overalls and a yellow hard hat. He had a roll of electrical cable over his shoulder."
"You better tell the cops."
Vetter rose. He started away, then paused, reaching into his pocket. He was worried that his new friends might think he was trying to stiff them for the bill. He'd heard that New Yorkers were very suspicious of people and he didn't want his first step into the world of big-city business to be marred by something like that. He peeled off a ten for his sandwich and beer, then remembered where he was and left twenty.
"Sam, don't worry about it! Hurry."
He tried to remember exactly where the man had climbed from the manhole and where he'd stood to make his phone call before walking into the school. If he could recall the time of the call, more or less, maybe the police could trace it. The cell company could tell them who he'd been talking to.
Vetter hurried down the escalator, two steps at a time, and then ran into the lobby. He spotted a police officer, who was standing near the front desk.
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"Officer, excuse me. But I just heard . . . you're looking for somebody who works for the electric company? That man who was behind that explosion yesterday?"
"That's right, sir. Do you know anything about it?"
"I think I might've seen him. I don't know for sure. Maybe it's not him. But I thought I should say something."
"Hold on." The man lifted his bulky radio and spoke into it. "This is Portable Seven Eight Seven Three to Command Post. I think I've got a witness. Might've seen the suspect, K."
"Roger." Clattering from the speaker. "Hold on, K. . . . All right, Seven Eight, send him outside. Stone Street. Detective Simpson wants to talk to him, K."
"Roger. Seven Eight, out." Turning to Vetter, the cop said, "Go out the front doors and turn left. There's a detective there, a woman. Nancy Simpson. You can ask for her."
Hurrying through the lobby, Vetter thought: Maybe if the man is still around they'll capture him before he hurts anybody else.
My first trip to New York, and I might just make the newspapers. A hero.
What would Ruth have said?
Chapter 37
"AMELIA!" NANCY SIMPSON shouted from the sidewalk. "I've got a witness. Somebody in the hotel next door." Sachs hurried up to Simpson, who said, "He's coming out to see us."
Sachs, via the microphone, relayed this information to Rhyme.
"Where was Galt seen?" the criminalist asked urgently.
"I don't know yet. We're going to talk to the wit. In a second."
Together, she and Simpson hurried to the entrance of the hotel to meet the wit. Sachs looked skyward at the steel superstructure of the building under construction. Workers were leaving fast. Only a few minutes remained until the deadline.
Then she heard: "Officer!" A man's voice called from behind her. "Detective!"
She turned and saw Algonquin vice president Bob Cavanaugh running toward her. The large man was breathing heavily and sweating as he pulled up. His expression said, Sorry, I forgot your name.
"Amelia Sachs."