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Authors: Jeffery Deaver

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BOOK: The Skin Collector
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The tech ran a sample through the GC/MS. He announced, ‘We’re positive for Tovex residue.’

Sellitto said, ‘Tovex? Commercial explosive.’

Rhyme was nodding. ‘Had a feeling we’d find something like that. Used in blasting foundations out of rock. Given the trauma to the marble grains, our unsub picked up that trace at or near a construction
site. Someplace where there’s a lot of Inwood marble. Call the city for blasting permits, rookie. And then cross-reference with the geological database of the area. Now, what else?’

The scrapings beneath Chloe Moore’s fingernails revealed no skin, only off-white cotton cloth and paper fibers.

Rhyme explained to Sellitto: ‘Chloe may’ve fought him and picked those up in the struggle. A shame she
didn’t get a chunk of his skin. Where’s the DNA when you need it? On the board, and let’s keep at it.’

The duct tape that the unsub had used to bind Chloe’s feet was generic; the handcuffs too. And the flashlight – the beacon to reveal his handiwork – was a cheap, plastic variety. Neither that nor the D batteries inside bore fingerprints, and no hairs or other trace adhered, except a bit of adhesive
similar to that used on sticky rollers – exactly what crime scene officers employed to pick up trace. As Sachs had speculated, he’d probably rolled himself before leaving for the crime scene.

‘This boy’s even better than I thought,’ Rhyme said. Dismay mixing with a certain reluctant admiration.

‘Now, any electrical outlets down there, Sachs? I don’t recall.’

‘No. The spotlights that the first
responders set up were battery-powered.’

‘So his tattoo gun would be battery-operated too. Rookie – when you take a break from your marble quest, find out who makes battery tattoo guns.’

Pulaski went back online, saying, ‘Hopefully, they’ll be pretty rare.’

‘Now, that’s going to be interesting.’

‘What?’

‘Finding a tattoo gun that’s filled with hope.’

‘That’s filled with … what?’

Sellitto
was smiling sourly. He knew what was coming.

Rhyme continued, ‘That’s what “hopefull”Y means. Your sentence didn’t say “I hope that portable tattoo guns’re rare.” Using “hopefull”Y as a disjunct – an opinion by the speaker – is non-standard. English teachers and journalists disapprove.’

The young officer’s head bobbed. ‘Lincoln, sometimes I think I’ve walked into a Quentin Tarantino movie when
I’m talking to you.’

Rhyme’s eyebrows arched. Continue.

Pulaski grumbled, ‘You know, that scene where two hit men are going to blow somebody away but they talk and talk and talk for ten minutes about how “eager” and “anxious” aren’t the same, or how “disinterested” doesn’t mean “uninterested”. You just want to slap ’em.’

Sachs coughed a laugh.

‘Those two misuses bother me just as much,’ Rhyme
muttered. ‘And good job knowing the distinction. Now, that last bit of evidence. That’s the one I’m most interested in.’

He turned back to the collection bag, thinking he’d have to find out who this Tarantino was.

CHAPTER
10

Mel Cooper carefully opened the sole remaining evidence bag over an examination table. Using tweezers, he extracted the crumpled ball of paper. He began to unwrap it. Slowly.

‘Where was it, Amelia?’ he asked.

‘About three feet from the body. Below one of those yellow boxes.’

‘I saw those,’ Rhyme said. ‘IFON. Electric grid, telephone, I’d guess.’

The paper was from the upper corner
of a publication, torn out. It was about three inches long, two high. The words on the front, the right-hand page, were these:

ies

that his greatest skill was his ability to anticipate

On the reverse page:

the body was found.

Rhyme looked at Cooper, who was using a Bausch + Lomb microscope to compare the paper fibers from this sample with those found under the victim’s fingernails.

‘We can
associate them. Probably from the same source. And there were no other samples of the cloth fibers under her nails from the scene.’

‘So the presumption is that she tore the scrap in a struggle with him.’

Sellitto asked, ‘Why’d he have it with him? What was it?’

Rhyme noted that the stock was uncoated, so the scrap was likely not from a magazine. Nor was the paper newsprint, so the source probably
wasn’t a daily or weekly paper or tabloid.

‘It’s probably from a book,’ he announced, staring at the triangular scrap.

‘But what’d the scenario be?’ Pulaski asked.

‘Good question: You mean if the scrap was from the pocket of our unsub and she tore it off while grappling with him, how can the pages be from a book?’

‘Right.’

‘Because I would think he sliced important pages
out of
the book and
kept them with him. I want to know what that scrap is from.’

‘The easy way?’ Cooper suggested.

‘Oh, Google Books? Right. Or whatever that thing is called, that online service that has ninety percent or however many of the world’s books in a database. Sure, give it a shot.’

But, unsurprisingly, the search returned no hits. Rhyme didn’t know much about how the copyright laws worked but he suspected
that there were more than a few authors of books still protected by the US Code that didn’t want to share their creative sweat labor royalty-free.

‘So, it’s the hard way,’ Rhyme announced. ‘What do they call that in computer hacking? Brute-force attack?’ He reflected for a moment then added, ‘But we can maybe narrow down the search. Let’s see if we can find out
when
it was printed and look for
books published around then that deal with – to start – crimes. The word “bodies” is a hint there. Now, let’s get a date.’

‘Carbon dating?’ Ron Pulaski asked, drawing a smile from Mel Cooper. ‘What?’ the young officer asked.

‘Haven’t read my chapter on radiocarbon, rookie?’ Referring to Rhyme’s textbook on forensic science.

‘Actually I have, Lincoln.’

‘And?’

Pulaski recited, ‘Carbon dating
is the comparison of non-degrading carbon-12 with degrading carbon-14, which will give an idea of the age of the object being tested. I said “idea”; I think you said “approximation”.’

‘Ah, well quoted. Just a shame you missed the footnote.’

‘Oh. There were footnotes?’

‘The error factor for carbon dating is thirty to forty years. And that’s with recent samples. If our perp had carried around
a chapter printed on papyrus or dinosaur hide, the deviation would be greater.’ Rhyme gestured toward the scrap. ‘So, no, carbon dating isn’t for us.’

‘At least it would tell us if it was printed in the last thirty or forty years.’

‘Well, we know
that
,’ Rhyme snapped. ‘It was printed in the nineties, I’m almost certain. I want something more specific.’

Now Sellitto was frowning. ‘How do you
know the decade, Linc?’

‘The typeface. It’s called Myriad. Created by Robert Slimbach and Carol Twombly for Adobe Systems. It became Apple’s font.’

‘It looks like any other sans serif font to me,’ Sachs said.

‘Look at the “y” descender and the slanting “e”.’

‘You studied that?’ asked Pulaski, as if a huge gap in his forensic education threatened to swallow him whole.

Years ago Rhyme had run
a kidnapping case in which the perp had crafted a ransom note by cutting letters from a magazine. He’d used characters from editorial headlines as well as from a number of advertisements. Correlating the typefaces from dozens of magazines and advertisers’ logos, Rhyme had concluded it was from a particular issue of the
Atlantic Monthly
. A warrant for subscriber lists – and some other evidence
– led to the perp’s door and the rescue of the victim. He explained this to Pulaski.

‘But how do we date it more specifically?’ Sellitto asked.

‘The ink,’ Rhyme said.

‘Tags?’ Cooper asked.

‘Doubt it.’ In the 1960s ink manufacturers began adding tags – chemical markers, in the same way that explosives manufacturers did – so that, in the event of a crime, the ink sample would be easy to trace
to a single source or at least to a brand name of ink or pen. (The primary purpose of tagging was to track down forgers, though the markers also nailed a number of kidnappers and psychopathic killers, who left messages at the scenes of their crimes.) But the ink used for book printing, as in this sample, was sold in large batches, which were rarely if ever tagged.

So, Rhyme explained, they needed
to compare the composition of this particular ink with those in the NYPD ink database.

‘Extract the ink, Mel. Let’s find out what it’s made out of.’

From a rack of tools above the evidence examination tables, Cooper selected a modified hypodermic syringe, the point partially filed down. He poked this through the paper seven times. The resulting tiny disks, all of which contained samples of the
ink, he soaked in pyridine to extract the ink itself. He dried the solution to a powdery residue, which he then analyzed.

Cooper and Rhyme looked over the resulting chromatogram – a bar chart of peaks and valleys representing the ink used in the printing of the mysterious book.

By itself, the analysis meant nothing, but running the results through the database revealed that the ink was similar
to those used in the production of adult trade books from 1996 through 2000.

‘Adult?’ Pulaski asked.

‘No, not
your
kind of adult books,’ Sellitto said, laughing.

‘My—’ The officer was blushing furiously. ‘Wait.’

Rhyme continued, ‘It means as opposed to juvenile publishing.
Legitimate
books for adults. And the paper? Check acidity.’

Cooper ran a basic pH analysis, using a small corner of the
paper.

‘It’s very acidic.’

‘That means it’s from a mass-produced commercial hardcover – not paperback because they’re printed on newsprint. And it’s commercial because more expensive, limited-edition books are printed on low-acid or acid-free paper.

‘Add that to your team’s to-do list, Lon. Find the book. I’m leaning toward nonfiction, the aforementioned years. Possibly true crime. And each
chapter devoted to a different subject, since he sliced out only what he needed. Have your people start talking to editors, bookstores, crime book collectors … and true crime writers themselves. How many could there be?’

‘Yeah, yeah, in all the free time they have when they’re not browsing for the trillion quotations featuring the words “the second”.’

‘Oh, and by the way, make it a priority.
If our unsub went to enough trouble to find a copy of the book, cut out the pages and carry them around with him, I
really
want to know what’s in it.’

The big detective was looking at the picture of the tattoo once more. He said to Cooper, ‘Print out a picture of that, willya, Mel? I’ll start hitting those tattoo parlors – is that what they still call ’em? Probably “studio” now. And get me a
list of the big ones.’

Rhyme watched Cooper print out the picture then go online with the NYC business licensing agency. He downloaded a list of what seemed to be about thirty tattoo businesses. Cooper handed it to the detective.

‘That many?’ Sellitto grumbled. ‘Wonderful. I just can’t really get outside enough on these fine fall days.’ He tossed the list and the photo of the tattoo into his
briefcase. Then pulled on his Burberry and dug his wadded gloves from the pocket. Without a farewell he stalked out of the room. Rhyme once again heard the wind briefly as the door opened and slammed shut.

‘And, rookie, how’re we coming on the marble?’

The young officer turned to a nearby computer. He read through the screen. ‘Still going through blasting permits. They’re blowing up a lot of
stuff in the city at the moment.’

‘Keep at it.’

‘You bet. I’ll have some answers soon.’ He turned his gaze to Rhyme. ‘Hopefully.’

‘Hopefully?’ Rhyme frowned.

‘Yep. I’m filled with hope that I don’t get any more damn grammar lessons from you, Lincoln.’

 

 

237 Elizabeth Street
  • Victim: Chloe Moore, 26

    – Probably no connection to Unsub

    – No sexual assault, but touching of skin

  • Unsub 11-5

    – White male

    – Slim to medium build

    – Stocking cap

    – Thigh-length dark coat

    – Dark backpack

    – Wore booties

    – No friction ridges

  • COD: Poisoning with cicutoxin, introduced into system by tattooing

    – From water hemlock plant

    – No known source

    – Concentrated, eight times normal

  • Sedated with propofol

    – How obtained? Access to medical supplies?

  • Tattooed with ‘the second’ Old English typeface,
    surrounded by scallops

    – Part of message?

    – Task force at police HQ checking this out

  • Portable tattoo gun used as weapon

    – Model unknown

  • Cotton fiber

    – Off white

    – Probably from Unsub’s shirt, torn in struggle

  • Page from book, true crime?

    – Probably torn from Unsub’s pocket in struggle

    – Probably mass produced hardcover 1996–2000

    ies

    that his greatest skill was his ability to anticipate

    – On next page:

    the body was found.

  • Possibly used adhesive rollers to remove trace from clothing prior to attack
  • Handcuffs

    – Generic, cannot be sourced

  • Flashlight

    – Generic, cannot be sourced

  • Duct tape

    – Generic, cannot be sourced

  
Trace evidence

  • Nitric oxide, ozone, iron manganese, nickel, silver beryllium, chlorinated hydrocarbon, acetylene

    – Possibly oxy-fuel welding supplies

  • Tetrodotoxin

    – Fugu fish poison

    – Zombie drug

    – Minute amounts

    – Not used on victim here

  • Stercobilin, urea 9.3 g/L, chloride 1.87 g/L, sodium 1.17 g/L, potassium 0.750 g/L, creatinine 0.670 g/L

    – fecal material

    – Possibly suggesting interest/obsession in underground

    – From future kill sites underground?

  • Benzalkonium chloride

    – Quaternary ammonium (quat), institutional sanitizer

  • Adhesive latex

    – Used
    in bandages and construction, other uses too

  • Inwood marble

    – Dust and fine grains

  • Tovex explosive

    – Probably from blast site

BOOK: The Skin Collector
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