The burning wire

CRIME SCENE: ALGONQUIN SUBSTATION

– Victim (deceased): Luis Martin, assistant manager in music store. -No friction ridge prints on any surface. -Shrapnel from molten metal, as a result of the arc flash. -0-gauge insulated aluminum strand cable. -Be

DEMAND NOTE

– Delivered to Andi Jessen at home. -No witnesses. -Handwritten. -Sent to Parker Kincaid for analysis. -Generic paper and ink. -Untraceable. -No friction ridge prints, other than A. Jessen, doorman, messenger. -No discernible trace discovered in paper.

– Male. -40's. -Probably white. -Possibly glasses and cap. -Possibly with short, blond hair. -Dark blue overalls, similar to those worn by Algonquin workers. -Knows electrical systems very well. -Boot print suggests no physical condition affecting posture or gait. -Possibly same person who stole 75 feet of similar Be

Chapter 28

MEL COOPER, IN front of his computer, sat up quickly. "I think I've got one."

"One what?" Rhyme asked acerbically.

"A way to narrow down the list." Cooper sat up straighter yet and shoved his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose as he read an email. "The hair. That we got from the coffee shop across from the substation?"

"No bulb so there's no DNA," Rhyme pointed out abruptly. He was still irritated that the analysis wasn't ready yet.

"I don't mean that, Lincoln. I've just got the tox-chem screening from the hair itself. Vinblastine and prednisone in significant quantities, and traces of etoposide."

"Cancer patient," Rhyme said, leaning his head forward-his version of Cooper's own posture adjustment. "He's on a chemotherapy regimen."

"Has to be."

The young FBI protege of McDaniel's barked a laugh. "How do you know that?" Then to his boss: "That's pretty good."

"You'd be surprised," Ron Pulaski said.

Rhyme ignored them both. "Call Algonquin and see if any of the twelve on the list made health claims for cancer treatment in the past five or six months."

Sachs called Algonquin. Andi Jessen was on the phone-probably with the governor or mayor-and Sachs was transferred to the company's security chief, Bernard Wahl. Through speakerphone, the deep, African-American-inflected voice reassured them that he'd look into it immediately.

It wasn't quite immediate but it was good enough for Rhyme. Three minutes later Wahl came back on the line.

"There're six cancer patients on the original list-of the forty-two. But only two on the list of the twelve, the ones whose handwriting could match the demand letter. One of those is a manager in the energy brokerage department. He was supposedly flying into town from a business trip at the time of the attack." Wahl gave the relevant information. Mel Cooper took it down and, at a nod from Rhyme, called the airline to check. Transportation Security had become an unwitting partner in general law enforcement because identification requirements were now so stringent that the whereabouts of people flying could be verified easily.

"He checks out."

"What about the other one?"

"Yessir, well, he's a possibility. Raymond Galt, forty. He's made health claims for leukemia treatment over the past year."

Rhyme shot a glance to Sachs, who knew instinctively what the look meant. They communicated this way often. She dropped into a chair and began keyboarding.

"His history?" Rhyme said.

Wahl answered, "Started with a competitor in the Midwest and then joined Algonquin."

"Competitor?"

He paused. "Well, not really competitor, like carmakers are. That's just how we refer to other power companies."

"What does Galt do for you now?"

"He's a troubleman," Wahl said.

Rhyme was staring at the profile on his computer screen. A troubleman would have enough experience to put together an arc flash weapon like the sort at the substation, according to Charlie Sommers. He asked, "Mel, take a look at Galt's file. Would he know SCADA and the energy management program?"

Cooper opened the man's perso

"Mr. Wahl, is Galt married, single?" Rhyme asked the security chief.

"Single. Lives in Manhattan. You want his address, sir?"

"Yes."

Wahl gave it to them.

"This is Tucker McDaniel. What about whereabouts, Mr. Wahl?" McDaniel asked urgently.

"That's the thing. He called in sick two days ago. Nobody knows where he is."

"Any chance he's done some traveling lately? Maybe to Hawaii or Oregon? Someplace where there's a volcano?"

"Volcano? Why?"

Struggling to be patient, Rhyme asked, "Just, has he traveled?"

"According to his time sheets, no. He's taken a few days' medical-I guess for the cancer treatment-but he hasn't been on a vacation since last year."

"Could you check with his fellow employees and see if they know about places he goes, friends outside of the company, any groups he's in?"

"Yessir."

Thinking of the Greek food co

"Yessir."

"Mr. Wahl, what about Galt's next of kin?" McDaniel asked.

Wahl reported that Galt's father was dead but his mother and a sister lived in Missouri. He recited the names, addresses and phone numbers.

Rhyme-and McDaniel too-could think of nothing else to ask the security chief. The criminalist thanked him and they disco