Chapters (92)
- Cover
- Also by Jeffery Deaver
- THE SKIN COLLECTOR
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ITHE OUT-OF-PRINT BOOK
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- IITHE UNDERGROUND MAN
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- IIITHE RED CENTIPEDE
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- CHAPTER 47
- CHAPTER 48
- CHAPTER 49
- CHAPTER 50
- IVTHE UNDERGROUND WOMAN
- CHAPTER 51
- CHAPTER 52
- CHAPTER 53
- CHAPTER 54
- CHAPTER 55
- CHAPTER 56
- CHAPTER 57
- CHAPTER 58
- CHAPTER 59
- CHAPTER 60
- CHAPTER 61
- CHAPTER 62
- CHAPTER 63
- CHAPTER 64
- CHAPTER 65
- CHAPTER 66
- CHAPTER 67
- CHAPTER 68
- CHAPTER 69
- CHAPTER 70
- CHAPTER 71
- CHAPTER 72
- CHAPTER 73
- CHAPTER 74
- VREUNION
- CHAPTER 75
- CHAPTER 76
- CHAPTER 77
- CHAPTER 78
- VISKIN AND BONE
- CHAPTER 79
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
Some of the victims had been saved, some had not. The case had been significant for several reasons: It had brought Rhyme back from the dead – almost literally. He’d been planning to take his own life, so depressed had he been about his quadriplegia, but he’d decided to stick around for a while after the exhilaration of mentally wrestling with the brilliant killer.
The case had also brought Rhyme and Sachs together.
Rhyme now muttered, ‘And we’re not the first chapter?’
Sellitto shrugged. ‘Oh, sorry, Linc.’
‘But it’s New York.’
And it is me, Rhyme couldn’t help thinking.
‘Can I see it?’ Sachs asked. She opened the book to the chapter and began to read quickly.
‘Short,’ Rhyme observed, even more irritated. Did the Boston Strangler investigation get more pages?
‘You know,’ Sachs said, ‘I seem to remember talking to a writer a while ago. He said he was working on a book and took me out for coffee to find out some details that weren’t in the press or the official record.’ She smiled. ‘I think he said he called you too, Rhyme, and you chewed his head off and hung up on him.’
‘I don’t recall,’ he grumbled. ‘Journalism. What’s the point of it anyway?’
‘You wrote that,’ Pulaski pointed out, nodding toward a bookshelf on which sat Rhyme’s own nonfiction account of famous crime scenes in New York City.
‘It was a lark. I don’t devote my life to regurgitating lurid stories to a bloodsucking audience.’
Though perhaps he should have been more lurid, he reflected; The Scenes of the Crime had been remaindered years ago.
‘The important question is, what’s Unsub Eleven-Five’s interest in the Bone Collector case?’ He nodded at the book. ‘What’s the nature of my chapter? Does it have a theme? Does the author have an ax to grind?’
How long was it, for God’s sake? Only ten pages? Rhyme grew even more offended.
Sachs continued skimming. ‘Don’t worry. You come off well. I do too, I have to say … It’s mostly a description of the kidnapping incidents and the investigation techniques.’
She flipped more pages. ‘A lot of procedural details about the crime scene work. Some footnotes. There’s a long one about your condition.’
‘Oh, that must be some truly compelling reading.’
‘Another one about the politics of the case.’
Sachs had gotten into hot water by closing down a train line to preserve evidence – which resulted in a rift all the way up to Albany.
‘And one more footnote – about Pam’s mother,’ Sachs said.