A tech ran the reagent tests. But Charlie Shean said, “We don’t exactly have a fungus database.”

“Really?” Rhyme said. And gave the man a website, user name and pass code. In five minutes Shean was browsing through Rhyme’s own database on molds and fungi, jotting notes.

Eyes on the chart, Rhyme said, “‘Harutyun.’ Armenian.”

The detective nodded. “Big community here in Fresno.”

“I know.”

And how did Rhyme know that? Dance wondered. But speculating about the criminalist’s encyclopedic mind was useless. Some facts that even children knew he was completely ignorant of. Others, far more esoteric, were stored front and center. The key, she knew, was whether they had helped him analyze evidence or might help him do so in the future. She wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he didn’t know the earth revolved around the sun.

Finally the results from the new tests were compiled and Rhyme reviewed them, as well as the results from the earlier analysis that Shean’s techs had run. It was raw data only but no one was better at turning raw data into something useful than Lincoln Rhyme. “Now, outside Edwin’s house. The fungus is often used in place of traditional toxic chemical pesticides and the mineral oil is also found in alternative pesticides.

“Also, at his house and at the convention center, the triglycerides … With that color temperature and melting point, I’d say it’s neatsfoot oil. That’s used for treating baseball gloves and leather sports equipment, equestrian tack and gunslings. Snipers buy a lot of it. Used to be made from cattle bones—‘neat’ is an old word for oxen or cow—but now it’s made mostly from lard. Hence the triglycerides.” He consulted the chart, frowning. “I don’t know about the ammonium oxalate. That’s going to take more digging. But the limonite, goethite and calcite? It’s gangue.”

“What’s that, ‘gangue’?” O’Neil asked.

“It’s by-product—generally unused materials produced in industrial operations. Those particular substances are often found in ore collection and processing. I also found the same materials in the trace at the public phone at Fresno College, where he called Kayleigh to announce one of the attacks.

“And something else here,” Rhyme said with some excitement in his voice. He glanced at the evidence bags. “From the PA system control room, the phone and from behind Edwin’s house: calcium powder? But it’s not what you suggested, Charlie—medical or dietary supplement. It’s bone dust.”

“Well, couldn’t people still take it like a supplement?”

Rhyme frowned. “Don’t think they’d want to. I forgot to mention: it’s human.”

Chapter 54

THE BONE MATERIAL was quite minimal and to confirm the source would require a confocal laser scanning microscope, Rhyme explained, looking around the room as if one of these magical devices were nearby in the lab.

Charlie Shean said that while he was aware of the machine and had wanted to acquire one, the FMCSO could not, in fact, afford it.

“Well, I’m ninety-nine percent sure. The morphology of the particles and the geometry of the dust almost guarantee it’s human. I’d be very surprised if it wasn’t.”