Rhyme parked in front of the evidence boards and photos. He had another thought, discouraging. He snapped, ‘Sloppy thinking – speculating that Samantha Levine, from IFON, was the target. How would the unsub know she’d go to the bathroom at just that time, and be waiting for her? Careless. Stupid.’

The idea of the syndicate of traditional cable Internet providers taking down the fiber-optic interloper had seemed good – sheep ranchers versus cattle barons. Like most conspiracy theories, it was sexy but ultimately junk.

His eyes strayed to the tattoos.

Rhyme read them out loud.

Pulaski, next to him, leaned forward. ‘And those wavy lines.’

‘Scallops,’ Rhyme corrected.

‘I don’t know what a scallop is except a seafood thing that tastes pretty bland unless you put sauce on it.’

‘The shell that seafood thing comes in is shaped like that,’ Rhyme murmured.

‘Oh. To me they just looked like waves.’

Rhyme frowned. Then he whispered, ‘And waves that TT Gordon said were significant – because of the scarification.’ After a moment: ‘I was wrong. It’s not a location he’s giving us. Goddamn!’ Rhyme spat out. Then he blinked and laughed.

‘What?’ Sachs asked.

‘I just made a very bad joke. When I said, “Goddamn.”’

‘How do you mean, Lincoln?’ Cooper wondered aloud.

He ignored the question, calling, ‘Bible! I need a Bible.’

‘Well, we don’t have one here, Lincoln,’ Thom said.

‘Online. Find me a Bible online. You’re on to something, rookie.’

‘I am?’

CHAPTER 59

Leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, Billy watched his aunt Harriet – his mother’s sister – add soap to the washer.

She asked, ‘Did you see anybody in the lobby? I was worried the police were watching me. I felt something.’

‘No. I checked. Carefully. I’ve been up there for an hour.’

‘I didn’t see you.’

‘I was watching,’ Billy said. ‘Not being watched.’

She lowered the lid and he glanced at her breasts, her legs, her neck. Memories …

He always wondered if his uncle knew about their time in the Oleander Room.

In one way it seemed impossible that Uncle Matthew had been oblivious to their affair, or whatever you wanted to call it. How could he miss that the two would disappear for several hours in the afternoon on the days when she wasn’t homeschooling neighborhood children?

And there had to be shared smells, smells of each other’s bodies and of perfume and deodorant.

The smell of the blood too, even though they would shower meticulously after every afternoon liaison.

All the blood …