The Burning Wire

don’t add up to much in the great scheme of things yet; there’s still lots of profit to be made building wind and solar farms and regional grids and the transmission equipment.”
    “Exactly. Government subsidies and tax breaks too. Not to mention consumers who’ll pay whatever they’re billed for green power because they think they’re saving the earth.”
    Rhyme said, “When we found Galt’s apartment, his emails about the cancer, we were thinking that revenge never sits well as a motive.”
    “No, but greed’s perennial.”
    The criminalist apparently couldn’t help but laugh. “So a green cartel’s behind this. What a thought.” His eyes took in the whiteboards. “I think I can deduce one of the players . . . Bob Cavanaugh?”
    “Good. Yes. He’s the principal, in fact. How did you know?”
    “He gave us information implicating Randall Jessen.” Rhyme squinted. “And he helped us at the hotel in Battery Park. We might’ve saved Vetter. . . . But, sure, it didn’t matter if you actually killed him or Fishbein, or anyone else for that matter.”
    “No. What was important was that Andi Jessen get arrested for the attacks. Discredited and sent to jail. And there was another motive: Cavanaugh was an associate of Andi’s father, and never very happy he’d been passed over for the president and CEO spot by daddy’s little girl.”
    “He can’t be the only one.”
    “No. The cartel has CEOs from a half dozen alternative-energy equipment suppliers around the world, mostly in the United States, China and Switzerland.”
    “A green cartel.” Rhyme shook his head.
    “Times change,” Logan said.
    “But why not just kill her, Andi?”
    “My very question,” Logan said. “But there was an economic component. Cavanaugh and the others needed Andi out but also needed to have Algonquin’s share price drop. The cartel is going to snap up the company.”
    “And the attack on the bus?”
    “Needed to get everybody’s attention.” Logan felt a ping of regret. And he was comfortable confessing to Rhyme, “I didn’t want anyone to die there. That passenger would have been okay if he’d gotten ontothe bus instead of hesitating. But I couldn’t wait anymore.”
    “I can see why you’d set up Vetter and Fishbein to make it look like Andi wanted them dead—they were involved in alternative energy projects in Arizona. They’d be logical victims. But why would the cartel want to kill Charlie Sommers? Wasn’t his job developing alternative energy?”
    “Sommers?” A nod at the generator. “I heard you mention him. And Bernie Wahl dimed him out when I delivered the second note. Wahl snitched on you too, by the way. . . .”
    “Because you threatened to, what? Electrocute his family?”
    “Yes.”
    “I hardly blame him.”
    Logan continued, “But whoever this Sommers is, he’s not part of the plan.”
    “But you sent Algonquin a third demand letter. That meant you had to kill somebody else. You don’t have a trap at the convention center?” Rhyme looked confused.
    “No.”
    Then he nodded with understanding. “Of course . . . me . I’m the next victim.”
    Logan paused, the wire taut in his hands. “That’s right.”
    “You took on this whole assignment because of me.”
    “I get a lot of calls. But I’ve been waiting for a job that would bring me back to New York.” Logan lowered his head. “You nearly caught me when I was here a few years ago—and you ruined that assignment. It was the first time that anyone’s ever stopped me from fulfilling a contract. I had to return the fee. . . . Itwasn’t the cash; it was the embarrassment. Shameful. And then you nearly caught me in England too. Next time . . . you might get lucky. That’s why I took the job when Cavanaugh called me. I needed to get close to you.”
    Logan wondered why he’d chosen those words. He pushed the thought away, finished affixing the ground wire. He rose. “Sorry. But I have to do this,” he apologized. Then poured water onto Rhyme’s chest, soaking his shirt. It was undignified but he didn’t have a choice. “Conductivity.”
    “And Justice For the Earth? Nothing to do with you either?”
    “No. I never heard of them.”
    Rhyme was watching him. “So that remote control switch you’ve made? It’s rigged downstairs in my circuit breaker panel?”
    “Yes.”
    Rhyme mused, “Electricity . . . I’ve learned a lot about it in the past few days.”
    “I’ve been studying