Sachs interviewed Sarah, then called Rhyme and told him the status of the case so far. The woman didn’t know the other victims and had never heard of Gerald Duncan. She was very upset that the man’s wife might’ve been killed outside her apartment, though she remembered nothing of any fatal accidents in the area.

Finally Haumann told them that all of his officers had finished the sweep; the Watchmaker had escaped.

“Hell,” Dennis Baker muttered. “We were so close.”

Discouraged, Rhyme said, “Well, walk the grid and tell me what you find.”

They signed off. Haumann sent two teams to stake out the warehouse that Duncan had used as a staging site in case the killer returned there and Sachs dressed in the white Tyvek bodysuit and grabbed a metal suitcase containing basic evidence collection and preservation equipment.

“I’ll help,” Pulaski said, also dressing in the white overalls.

She handed him the suitcase and she picked up another one.

On the second floor, she paused and surveyed the hallway. After photographing it Sachs entered Lanam Flooring and proceeded to Sarah Stanton’s workstation.

She and Pulaski set up the suitcases and extracted the basic evidence collection equipment: bags, tubes, swabs, adhesive rollers for trace, electrostatic footprint sheets and latent-print chemicals and equipment.

“What can I do?” Pulaski asked. “You want me to search the stairwells?”

She debated. They’d have to be searched eventually but she decided that it would be better to run them herself; they were the most logical entry and exit routes for the Watchmaker and she wanted to make certain that no evidence was missed. Sachs surveyed the layout of Sarah’s cubicle and then noticed an empty workstation next to it. It was possible that the Watchmaker had waited there until he had a chance to plant the bomb. Sachs told the rookie, “Run that cubicle.”

“You got it.” He stepped into the cubicle, pulled out his flashlight and began walking a perfect grid. She caught him sniffing the air too, another of Lincoln Rhyme’s dictates for crime scene officers searching. This boy was going to go places, she reflected.

Sachs stepped into the cubicle where they’d found the device. She heard a noise and glanced back. It was only Dennis Baker. He came up the corridor and stopped about twenty feet from the cubicles, far enough away so there was no risk of contaminating the scene.

She wasn’t sure exactly why he was here but, since they still weren’t sure where the Watchmaker was, she was grateful for his presence.

Search well but watch your back. . . .

This was the difference:

Detective Dennis Baker—along with a cop from the 118th—had murdered Benjamin Creeley and Frank Sarkowski. It had been tough but they’d done it without hesitation. And he was prepared to kill any other civilians who threatened their extortion scheme. No problem at all. Five million dollars in cash—their haul to date—buries a lot of guilt.