The Skin Collector

‘I offered him a thousand dollars to help me drill a hole to help me test the water. He agreed. But’ – Billy shook his head – ‘I was right. The city was bluffing about cutting down the pressure. As soon as he drilled through the pipe, the stream of water cut him in half.’ He shivered. ‘There was nothing left of his head and chest. It was pretty tough to see.’

At least he had a spark of sympathy.

‘Knowing that that might’ve been me.’

Or maybe not.

‘That told me it was time to bail. The police’ll find out soon enough it wasn’t me but I’ve bought some time. Okay, time to bleed …’ Then he said something else. She couldn’t quite hear. It seemed to be ‘Oleander.’

He rose, looked her over. Then he bent down and gripped the button of her jeans. Pop , it opened and the zipper came down.

No, no, he wasn’t going to take her. She’d rip his precious skin off with her teeth before he got close. Never.

With a fast sweep, down came the denim.

She tensed, ready to attack.

But he didn’t touch her there. He brushed the smooth flesh of her thighs. He was interested only in finding an appropriate part of her body on which to tattoo his deadly message, it seemed.

‘Nice, nice …’

Pam recalled Amelia talking about the code the killer was tattooing onto his victims. And she wondered what message he was going to leave on her body.

He picked up the gun and turned it on.

Bzzzz.

He touched it to her skin. The sensation was a tickle.

Then came the pain.

CHAPTER 70

The point of the American Families First Council attack was now clear.

Among the documents in the dead unsub’s pocket, in addition to the name of the Stantons’ hotel, Sachs had found a rambling letter.

It reminded Rhyme of the Unabomber’s manifesto – a diatribe against modern society. The difference, though, was that the unsub’s screed didn’t offer up the AFFC’s own racist and fundamentalist views; just the opposite, in fact. The document, intended to be found by the police after the citywide poisoning, purported to be written by the enemy  – some u

Characterizing the attack in this way was rather clever, Rhyme decided. It would take suspicion off the AFFC and would galvanize sentiment against the council’s enemies. It would also cause immeasurable damage to the Sodom of New York City, bastion of globalization, mixed races and liberalism.

Rhyme suspected there was more at work as well. ‘Power play within the militia movement? If word gets around that AFFC pulled this off, their stock would rise through the roof.’

A call came in from the federal building in Manhattan.

‘The Stantons are not  doin’ the talkie talkie, Lincoln,’ said Fred Dellray, the FBI agent who was ru

‘Well, sweat ’em or something, Fred. I want to know who the hell our unsub was. Prints came back negative and he wasn’t in CODIS.’

‘I saw those pictures of your boy in the tu

He was on speaker and, from a nearby evidence table, Sachs called, ‘They don’t know, Fred, but after it cut him in half it also cut through a concrete wall and a steam pipe on the other side. I had to haul ass out of there ’fore I got scalded.’

‘You catch anything helpful in the tu

‘Got a few things, not much. It was pretty much toast. Well, more oatmeal than toast, what with the steam and water.’

She explained about the letter, intended to start a race riot.

The agent sighed. ‘Just when you think the world’s a changin’ …’

‘We’ll work up the evidence, Fred, and be in touch.’

‘Thanks mightily.’

They disco

Rhyme glanced up at the crime scene pictures, immune to the gruesome images. He looked once more at the stark tattoo, the centipede in red on the left arm. The eyes eerily human. It was, as Sachs had told him, very well done. Had he inked it himself? Rhyme wondered. Or was it painted by a friend? The unsub probably. Point of pride.

Sachs took a phone call.

‘No, no,’ she whispered, drawing the attention of everybody in the room. Her face revealed dismay.

What now? Rhyme wondered, frowning.

She disco

‘Lon’s taken a turn for the worse. He went into cardiac arrest. They’ve revived him but it’s not looking good. I should be with Rachel.’

‘You go on, Sachs. We’ll take care of this.’ Rhyme hesitated. Then asked: ‘You want to give Pam a call and see if she wants to go with you? She always liked Lon.’

Pulling her coat off the hook, Sachs debated. Finally she said, ‘Naw. Frankly, I don’t think I could handle any more rejection.’

CHAPTER 71

Apparently, though, Billy wasn’t going to kill her.

Not yet, at any rate.

It was ink, not poison, he’d loaded into the tattoo gun.

‘Stop fidgeting,’ he instructed. He was on his knees in front of the couch she lay on.

Pam said, ‘My hands hurt behind me. Please. Undo the tape. Please.’

‘No.’

‘Just tape them in front of me.’

‘No. Stay still.’ He glared and she stopped squirming.

‘What the fuck are–’

Another fierce slap. ‘We have an image to maintain. Do you understand me? You will never use the F word and you will never take that tone!’ He gripped her hair and shook her head like prey in a fox’s mouth. ‘From now on your role is to be my woman. Our people will see you by my side. The loyal wife.’

He returned to the inking.

Pam thought of screaming but she was sure he’d beat the crap out of her if she tried. Besides, there was no one else in the building. One unit was empty and the other tenants were on a cruise.

He was speaking to her absently. ‘We’ll have to go deep underground for a while. My aunt and uncle won’t give me up. But my cousin, Joshua? It’s just a matter of time until he gets tricked into telling them everything he knows. Me included. We can’t go back to Southern Illinois. Your friend Lincoln will have the FBI picking up all the senior people at the AFFC now. And he’ll suspect the Larchwood crowd again, so Missouri’s out. We’ll have to go someplace else. Maybe the Patriot Assembly in upstate New York. They’re pretty much off the grid.’ He turned to her. ‘Or Texas. There’re people there who remember my parents as martyred freedom fighters. We could live with them.’

‘But, Seth–’

‘We’ll lie low for a few years. Call me “Seth” again and I’ll hurt you. I can do tattooing work for cash. You can teach Sunday school. Little by little we can reemerge. New identities. The AFFC’s over now, but maybe it’s just as well – we’ll move on. Start a new movement. And do a hell of a better job. We’ll do it the right way. We’ll place our women into schools – and I don’t just mean church schools. I mean public and private. Get the kids young. Break them in. We men will run for office, low level, cities and counties – at first. We’ll start local and then move up. Oh, it’s going to be a whole new world. You don’t think that way now. But you’ll be proud to be part of it.’