“That’s what you wanted to say?” the doctor asked.

Garrett nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Uhm, no.”

This time it was the doctor who glanced at the lawyer and shook his head.

“Mister,” Garrett began. “Doctor … I’ve, like, got this question?”

“Go ahead, Garrett.”

“Okay … there’s this book of mine I’d really like to have from my house. It’s called The Miniature World. Would that be okay?”

“We’ll see if that can be arranged,” the doctor said. He looked past Garrett to Fredericks, who rolled his eyes in frustration. The men rose, pulled on their jackets.

“That’ll be it for now, Garrett.”

The boy nodded.

Sachs quickly rose and stepped outside into the lockup office. The desk deputy hadn’t noticed her eavesdropping.

Fredericks and the doctor stepped outside as Garrett was led back into the cell.-

Jim Bell pushed through the doorway. Fredericks introduced him to the doctor, and the sheriff asked, “Anything?”

Fredericks shook his head. “Not a thing.”

Bell said grimly, “Was just over with the magistrate. They’re gonna arraign him at six and get him over to Lancaster tonight.”

“Tonight?” Sachs said.

“Better to get him out of town. There’re a few people around here’d like to take matters into their own hands.”

Dr. Penny said, “I can try again later. He’s very agitated right now.”

“’Course he’s agitated,” Bell muttered. “He just got himself arrested for murder and kidnapping. That’d make me agitated too. Do whatever you want in Lancaster but McGuire’s slapping the charges on him and we’re shipping him out ’fore dark. And by the way, Cal, I have to tell you: McGuire’s going for murder one.”

In the County Building, Amelia Sachs found Rhyme as ornery as she’d thought he’d be.

“Come on, Sachs, help poor Ben with the equipment and let’s get on our way. I told Dr. Weaver I’d be at the hospital sometime this year.”

But she just stood at the window, looking out. Finally she said, “Rhyme.”

The criminalist looked up, squinted as he studied her the way he’d study a bit of trace evidence he couldn’t identify. “I don’t like that, Sachs.”

“What?”

“I don’t like it one bit. Ben, no, you have to take the armature off before you pack it up.”

“Armature?” Ben was struggling to close up the boxy ALS—alternative light source, used to image substances invisible to the unaided eye.

“The wand,” Sachs explained and took over packing up the device.

“Thanks.” Ben began to coil computer wire.

“That look of yours, Sachs. That’s what I don’t like. Your look and the tone of your voice.”

“Ben,” she asked, “could you give us a few minutes alone?”

“No, he couldn’t,” Rhyme snapped. “We don’t have time. We’ve got to get packed up and out of here.”

“Five minutes,” she said.