Sachs rose and looked over the cable, the same Bennington brand as at the bus stop yesterday. No sign of the computer or hot stick, which she recalled Sommers telling her about--a fiberglass pole for live-wire work.
Then Barzan said in a soft voice, "The only reason I'm alive now is that he wanted to use me to kill people, isn't that right? He wanted to stop you from chasing him."
"That's right."
"That son of a bitch. And he's one of us. Linemen and troublemen stick together. It's like a brotherhood, you know. We have to be. Juice is so dangerous." He was furious at the betrayal.
Sachs rolled the man's hands, arms and legs for trace and then nodded to the medics. "He can go now." She told Barzan if he thought of anything else to give her a call and handed him a card. A medic radioed his colleague and said that the scene was clear and that they could bring the stretcher down the tunnel to evacuate the worker. Barzan sat back against the tunnel wall and closed his eyes.
Sachs then contacted Nancy Simpson and told her what had happened. "Get ESU into the Algonquin tunnels for a half mile around. And the subways too."
"Sure, Amelia. Hold on." Simpson came back on a moment later. "They're on their way."
"What about our witness from the hotel?"
"I'm still checking."
Sachs's eyes were growing more accustomed to the dark. She squinted. "I'll get back to you, Nancy. I see something." She moved through the tunnel in the direction that Barzan indicated Galt probably had fled.
About thirty feet away, sandwiched behind a grating in a small recess, she found a set of Algonquin dark blue overalls, hard hat and gear bag. She'd seen a flash of yellow from the safety hat. Of course, Galt would now know that everybody was looking for him, so he'd stripped off the outfit and hidden it here with the tool bag.
She called back Simpson and asked her to contact Bo Haumann and ESU and let them know that Galt would be in different clothes. Then she donned latex gloves and reached forward to pull the evidence out from behind the metal.
But then she stopped fast.
Now, you have to remember that even if you think you're avoiding it, you could still be in danger.
Sommers's words resounded in her head. She took the current detector and swept it over the tools.
The needle jumped: 603 volts.
Gasping, Sachs closed her eyes and felt the strength drain from her legs. She looked more carefully and saw a wire. It ran from the grating underground to the conduit behind which the evidence was stashed. She'd have to touch the pipe to pull the items out. The power was technically off in the tunnel but maybe this was a case of islanding or backfeed, if she remembered what Sommers had told her.
How much amperage does it take to kill you?
One tenth of one amp.
She returned to Barzan, who gazed at her blearily, his bandaged head still resting against the tunnel wall.
"I need some help. I need to collect some evidence, but there's still power in one of the lines."
"What line?"
"Up there. Six hundred volts. He's wired it to some conduit."
"Six hundred? It's DC, backfeed from the third rail supply on the subway. Look, you can use my hot stick. See it there?" He pointed. "And my gloves. The best thing is to run another wire to a ground from the conduit. You know how to do that?"
"No."
"I'm in no shape to help you. Sorry."
"That's okay. Tell me how to use the stick." She pulled on Barzan's gloves over the latex ones and took the tool, which ended with a clawlike attachment on the end, covered in rubber. It gave her some, but not a lot of, confidence.
"Stand on the rubber mat and pull whatever you saw out one by one. You'll be fine. . . . To be safe do it one-handed. Your right hand."
Farthest from the heart . . .
Which thudded furiously as she walked up to the recess, lay the Teflon sheets down and began slowly to collect the evidence.