The Skin Collector (25 page)

Sachs and the tech continued to examine the trace she’d collected. This time, though, they found no variation from the control samples, which meant the residues found on her body and where the unsub had walked in the crime scene had not been tracked in by him; they were all indigenous to the underground stockyard pen.

That, in turn, meant the substances wouldn’t lead to anywhere
the perp might have been.

‘
Ergo
,’ Rhyme muttered, ‘fucking useless.’

Finally, Sachs used tongs to pick up a plastic bag containing what seemed to Rhyme to be a purse. ‘Thought it was a rat at first. Brown, you know. And the strap seemed to be the tail. Be careful. There’s a booby trap inside.’ A glance at Cooper.

‘What?’ Rhyme asked.

She explained, ‘It was sitting by itself about ten feet
from Samantha’s body. It just felt wrong being there. I looked at it closely and saw a needle sticking up. Very small. I used forceps to collect the bag.’ Sachs added that she’d been on the lookout for traps because the NYPD psychologist, Terry Dobyns, had told them the perp might start targeting his pursuers.

‘That’s sneaky,’ Cooper said, donning an eye loupe to examine the needle. ‘Hypodermic.
I’d say thirty-gauge. Very small. White substance inside.’

Rhyme wheeled close and looked; his keen eyes could make out a tiny glint near the clasp.

Cooper selected a hemostat and then cautiously lifted the purse from the bag.

‘Check for explosives,’ Rhyme said. This wasn’t the unsub’s MO but you could never be too careful.

The scan came back negative. Still, Cooper decided to put the purse
in a containment vessel and used remote arms to open the bag, given the possibility that it was also rigged with some trap that might spray with toxin whoever opened it.

But, no, the needle was the only trap. The contents were mundane, if wrenching, clues to a life now abruptly ended: a health club membership card, a breast cancer donation thank-you note, a discount certificate to a Midtown restaurant.
Pictures of children – nieces and nephews, it seemed.

As for the booby trap, Cooper extracted the needle carefully.

‘It’s small,’ Rhyme said. ‘What do we make of that?’

Cooper said, ‘Can be used for insulin but this type is mostly used by plastic surgeons.’

Rhyme reminded, ‘He’s got propofol too. A general anesthetic. Could be that he’s planning some cosmetic surgery as part of his escape
plan. Though maybe he just broke into a medical supply house and stole what he wanted. Sachs, check if there’ve been any reports of that in the past month or so in the area.’ She stepped away to make a call downtown, requesting an NCIC search. Rhyme continued, ‘But more to the point – excuse the expression – that needle in particular: What’s inside his little present to us? Is it more of the angel’s
trumpet?’

Cooper ran the sample. And a moment later he read the results. ‘Nope. It’s worse. Well, I shouldn’t say worse. That’s a qualitative judgment. I’ll just say it’s more efficient.’

‘Meaning deadlier?’ Rhyme asked.

‘A lot. Strychnine.’ Cooper explained: The toxin came from
Strychnos
, a genus of trees and climbing shrubs. The substance was popular as a rodenticide. It had been a common
murder weapon a century ago though it was less so now since it was easily traced. Strychnine was the most pain-inducing of any toxin.

‘Not enough to kill an adult,’ Cooper said. ‘But it would keep the victim out of commission for weeks and might cause brain damage.’

On the positive side, though, from the investigators’ perspective, the poison was still sold commercially as a pesticide. Rhyme
mentioned this to Sachs and Cooper.

‘I’ll see if we can find any commercial suppliers,’ the tech said. ‘They have to keep records of poison sales.’

Cooper was looking at his computer, though, and frowning. ‘Dozens of sources. Brick-and-mortar stores. And all he’d need is a fake ID to buy some. Pay cash. No trace.’

In the world of forensic science too many options were as bad as too few.

Sachs
got a phone call and listened for a moment, then thanked the person on the other end of the line and disconnected. ‘No reported thefts of drugs or other medical equipment or supplies in the area, the last thirty days, except a few stoners or crack-heads knocking over pharmacies; they all got busted. No propofol missing.’

Thom appeared in the doorway.

‘Ah, my, what a stern expression.’

‘Close
to midnight, Lincoln You’re going to bed.’

‘Yes, dear, yes, dear.’ Then Rhyme said to Cooper, ‘Be careful, Mel. No reason for him to know you’re working this case but still, be careful. Sachs, text Lon and Pulaski and tell them the same thing.’ A glance at the mass spectrum of the strychnine. ‘We’re targets now. He’s declared war.’

She sent messages to the two officers, then stepped to a clean
whiteboard and wrote down the evidence, as well as the information she and Lon Sellitto had learned about the victim.

• Victim: Samantha Levine, 32
  

  –
  Worked for International Fiber Optic Networks
  

  –
  Probably no connection to Unsub
  

  –
  No sexual assault, but touching of skin
  

• Unsub 11-5
  

  –
  See details from prior scene
  

  –
  Might have returned to the scene
  

     
  No sightings
  

  –
  No friction ridges
  

  –
  No footprints
  

• COD: Poisoning with Brugmansia, introduced via tattooing
  

  –
  Angel’s trumpet, devil’s breath
  

  –
  Atropine, hyoscyamine, scopolamine
  

• Tattoo
  

  –
  ‘forty’ surrounded by scarring scallops
  

  –
  Why cardinal number?
  

• Sedated with propofol
  

  –
  How obtained? Access to medical supplies? (No local thefts)
  

• Location
  

  –
  Abducted from restroom of Provence
  ²
  restaurant,
  basement
  

  –
  Kill site was underneath restroom, in 19th-century slaughterhouse culling area underground
  

  –
  Similar infrastructure to earlier scene:
  

     
  IFON
  

     
  ConEd router
  

     
  Metropolitan Transit Authority DC current feed
  

     
  Department of Environmental Protection pipe
  

• Flashlight
  

  –
  Generic, cannot be sourced
  

• Handcuffs
  

  –
  Generic, cannot
  be sourced
  

• Duct tape
  

  –
  Generic, cannot be sourced
  

• No trace
  
• Purse left as booby trap
  

  –
  Plastic surgeon’s hypodermic needle
  

  –
  Strychnine loaded into needle
  

     
  Can’t locate source
  

     
  Probably not enough to kill
  

Rhyme gazed at the entries and then shrugged. ‘It’s as mysterious as the message he’s trying to send.’

Thom said, ‘Witching hour.’

‘Okay, you win.’

Cooper pulled his jacket on and said good night.

‘Sachs?’ Rhyme asked. ‘You coming upstairs?’

She’d turned from the board and was staring out the window at the stark, ice-coated branches bending in the persistent wind.