That girl . . .

Frowning, Charlotte looked back to the TV screen. “Isn’t it taking too long?”

Bud said nothing. His thick fingers were intertwined and he sat forward, hunched, elbows on knees. She wondered if he was praying.

A moment later the reporter whose mission was to save families from the scourge of burning Christmas trees disappeared and on the screen came the words Special News Bulletin.

Chapter 37

In doing his research into watchmaking, so that he could be a credible revenge killer, Charles Hale had learned of the concept of “complications.”

A complication is a function in a watch or clock other than telling the time of day. For instance, those small dials that dot the front of expensive timepieces, giving information like day of the week and date and time in different locations, and repeater functions (chimes sounding at certain intervals). Watchmakers have always enjoyed the challenge of getting as many complications into their watches as possible. A typical one is the Patek Philippe Star Calibre 2000, a watch featuring more than one thousand parts. Its complications offer the owner such information as the times of sunrise and sunset, a perpetual calendar, the day, date and month, the season, moon phases, lunar orbit and power reserve indicators for both the watch’s movement and the several chimes inside.

The trouble with complications, though, is that they’re just that. They tend to distract from the ultimate purpose of a watch: telling time. Breitling makes superb timepieces but some of the Professional and Navitimer models have so many dials, hands and side functions, like chronographs (the technical term for stopwatches) and logarithmic slide rules, that it’s easy to miss the big hand and the little hand.

But complications were exactly what Charles Hale needed for his plan here in New York City, distractions to lead the police away from what he was really about. Because there was a good chance that Lincoln Rhyme and his team would find out that he was no longer in custody and that he wasn’t really Gerald Duncan, they’d realize he had something else in mind other than getting even with a crooked cop.

So he needed yet another complication to keep the police focused elsewhere.

Hale’s cell phone vibrated. He glanced at the text message, which was from Charlotte Allerton. Special Report on TV: Museum closed. Police searching for you there.

He put the phone back in his pocket.

And enjoyed a moment of keen, almost sexual, satisfaction.

The message told him that while Rhyme had tipped to the fact that he wasn’t who he seemed to be, the police were still missing the time of day and focusing on the complication of the Metropolitan Museum. He was pointing the police toward what appeared to be a plan to steal the famous Delphic Mechanism. At the church he’d planted brochures on the horologic exhibits in Boston and Tampa. He’d rhapsodized on the device to Vincent Reynolds. He’d hinted to the antiques dealer about his obsession with old timepieces, mentioning the Mechanism specifically, and that he was aware of the exhibit at the Met. The small fire he’d set at the National Institute of Standards and Technology in Brooklyn would make them think he was going to somehow reset the country’s cesium clock, disabling the Met’s time-security system, and steal the Mechanism.