Rhyme had noticed in the picture of the bodies that the guard wore a Rolex watch, and a pair of Oakley sunglasses protruded from his pocket. Near the reporter lay a gold pen.

Poitier added, “Apparently you must be fast here securing evidence when you run a scene. I’m learning that. The lawyer I was mentioning?”

“The prominent lawyer.”

“Yes,” Poitier said. “After he was killed and before our detectives got there, half the office was looted.”

Rhyme said, “You have the bullet, though.”

“Yes. In our evidence locker. But that meeting with Assistant Commissioner McPherson after you left headquarters? It was to order me to deliver to him all the evidence in the Moreno case. He has taken custody and sealed the locker. No one else can have access. Oh, he also ordered me to have no contact whatsoever with you.”

Rhyme sighed. “They really don’t want this case to go forward, do they?”

With a bitterness Rhyme had not heard before, he said, “Ah, but the case has gone forward. Indeed, it is concluded. The cartels have murdered the victim out of retribution for one thing or another. Who can tell, with those inscrutable cartels?” The man grimaced. Then his voice lowered. “Now, Captain Rhyme, I couldn’t get you your physical evidence, as I’d hoped. But I can play tour guide.”

“Tour guide?”

“Indeed. We have a wonderful tourist attraction on the southwest coast of New Providence Island. A spit of land a half mile long, ravaged by hurricanes, composed mostly of rock and beaches with tainted sand. The highlights are a trash tip, a metal fabrication plant cited frequently for polluting and a company that shreds tires for recycling.”

“Sounds charming,” Thom said.

“It’s quite popular. At least it was for one American tourist. He visited it on the ninth of May. At around eleven fifteen in the morning. One of the more attractive sights he enjoyed was of the South Cove Inn. An unobstructed view, exactly two thousand one hundred and ten yards away. I thought that you, as a tourist to our country, might enjoy the sights as well. Am I right?”

“You are indeed, Corporal.”

“Then we should go. I will not have a career as a tour guide for much longer.”

Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

AS SHE SPED DOWNTOWN, Amelia Sachs disconnected the call from Rodney Szarnek, with the Computer Crimes Unit. She’d used a prepaid mobile—paid for out of her own pocket, with cash, of course—and was confident that the conversation hadn’t been intercepted by the man they were now in the process of tracking down.

Szarnek had told her that the NIOS sniper was presently having a conversation near the Wall Street area of the city while on foot.

The cybercrimes cop had given Sachs the general location of the man and she was speeding there now. When she arrived she’d call back and Rodney’d try to pinpoint the exact coordinates.