The Broken Window Read Online Free PDF Page B

shook his head. Sachs said to the detective, “If you could talk to Records and okay it I’ll go down there and pick up the file myself.”
    The wind filled the speakers again, then stopped abruptly. LaGrange must have moved into shelter.
    “Yeah, okay, I’ll give ’em a call now.”
    “Thanks.”
    “No problem. Good luck.”
    After they’d disconnected, Rhyme gave a brief smile. “That was a nice touch. The plea bargain thing.”
    “You gotta know your audience,” Sachs said and slung her purse over her shoulder, heading out of the door.

Chapter Four
    Sachs returned from her trip to Police Plaza a lot faster than if she’d taken public transportation—or paid attention to stoplights. Rhyme knew that she’d slapped a flashing light on the dash of her car, a 1969 Camaro SS, which she’d had painted fiery red a few years ago to match Rhyme’s preferred shade for his wheelchairs. Like a teenager, she still looked for any excuse to fire up the massive engine and sear rubber off the tires.
    “Copied everything,” she said, carrying a thick folder into the room. She winced as she set it on an examining table.
    “You okay?”
    Amelia Sachs suffered from arthritis, she had all her life, and popped glucosamine, chondroitin and Advil or Naprosyn like jelly beans but she rarely acknowledged the condition, fearful that the brass might stick her behind a desk on a medical if they found out. Even when she and Rhyme were alone she downplayed the pain. But today she admitted, “Some twinges’re worse than others.”
    “Want to sit?”
    A shake of the head.
    “So. What’ve we got?”
    “Report, evidence inventory and copies of the photos. No videos. They’re with the D.A.”
    “Let’s get everything on the board. I want to see the primary crime scene and Arthur’s house.”
    She walked to a whiteboard—one of the dozens in the lab—and transcribed information as Rhyme watched.
    ALICE SANDERSON HOMICIDE
----
    ALICE SANDERSON APARTMENT:
    • Traces of Edge Advanced Gel shave cream, with aloe
    • Crumbs determined to be Pringles, fat free, barbecue flavor
    • Chicago Cutlery knife (MW)
    • TruGro fertilizer
    • Shoeprint of Alton EZ-Walk, size 10 1 / 2
    • Fleck of latex glove
    • References to “Art” and a prepaid mobile number in phonebook, now no longer active. Untraceable (Possible affair?)
    • Two notes: “Art—drinks” (office) and “Arthur” (home)
    • Wit saw light blue Mercedes, partial tag NLP
    ARTHUR RHYME’S CAR:
    • 2004 light blue Mercedes sedan, C Class, New Jersey license NLP 745, registered to Arthur Rhyme
    • Blood on door, rear floor (DNA match to victim’s)
    • Bloody washcloth, matching set found in victim’s apartment (DNA match to victim’s)
    • Dirt with composition similar to dirt in Clinton State Park
    ARTHUR RHYME’S HOUSE:
    • Edge Advanced Gel with aloe, shave cream, associated with that from primary crime scene
    • Pringles barbecue-flavored chips, fat free
    • TruGro fertilizer (garage)
    • Spade containing dirt similar to dirt in Clinton State Park (garage)
    • Chicago Cutlery knives, same type as the MW
    • Alton EZ-Walk shoes, size 10 1 / 2 , tread similar to that at primary crime scene
    • Direct-mail flyers from Wilcox Gallery, Boston, and Anderson-Billings Fine Arts, Carmel, about shows of Harvey Prescott paintings
    • Box of Safe-Hand latex gloves, rubber composition similar to that of fleck found at primary crime scene (garage)
    “Man, it’s pretty incriminating, Rhyme,” Sachs said, standing back, hand on her hips.
    “And using a prepaid cell? And references to ‘Art.’ But no address where he lives or works. That would suggest an affair. . . . Any other details?”
    “No. Other than the pictures.”
    “Tape them up,” he instructed while scanning the chart, regretting that he hadn’t searched the scene himself—vicariously, that was, with Amelia Sachs, as they often did, via a microphone/headset or a high-definition video camera