The Burning Wire

her.
    How much amperage does it take to kill you?
    One tenth of one amp .
    She returned to Barzan, who gazed at her blearily, his bandaged head still resting against the tunnel wall.
    “I need some help. I need to collect some evidence, but there’s still power in one of the lines.”
    “What line?”
    “Up there. Six hundred volts. He’s wired it to some conduit.”
    “Six hundred? It’s DC, backfeed from the third rail supply on the subway. Look, you can use my hot stick. See it there?” He pointed. “And my gloves. The best thing is to run another wire to a ground from the conduit. You know how to do that?”
    “No.”
    “I’m in no shape to help you. Sorry.”
    “That’s okay. Tell me how to use the stick.” She pulled on Barzan’s gloves over the latex ones and took the tool, which ended with a clawlike attachment on the end, covered in rubber. It gave her some, but not a lot of, confidence.
    “Stand on the rubber mat and pull whatever you saw out one by one. You’ll be fine. . . . To be safe do it one-handed. Your right hand.”
    Farthest from the heart . .  .
    Which thudded furiously as she walked up to the recess, lay the Teflon sheets down and began slowly to collect the evidence.
    Pictured yet again young Luis Martin’s torn body, the shivering creatures dying in the hotel lobby.
    Hated being distracted.
    Hated being up against an enemy she couldn’t see.
    Holding her breath—though she didn’t know why—she pulled out the overalls and hard hat. Then the gear bag. R. Galt was written in sloppy marker on the red canvas.
    Exhaling long.
    After she’d finished bagging the evidence, she called Rhyme and gave him an update.
    “Get back here as soon as you can, Sachs. We need that evidence.”
    “What’d Ron find?”
    “According to Lon, nothing spectacular. Hm. Wonder what’s going on. He should be here by now.” His impatience was obvious.
    “It’ll just be a few minutes. I want to find that witness. Somebody having lunch apparently got a good look at Galt. I’m hoping he can tell us something specific.”
    They disconnected and Sachs returned to the surface and found Nancy Simpson. The detective was in the hotel lobby, which was now largely empty. Sachs started for one of the revolving doors not sealed off with police tape but stopped. She turned and climbed through the shattered window.
    Simpson’s hollow face revealed that she was still shaken. “Just talked to Bo. No idea where Galt got out of the system. With the power off he might’ve just walked down the subway tracks to Canal Street, got lost in Chinatown. Nobody knows.”
    Sachs looked at where blood and scorch marks stained the marble floors, outlining where the victims had been.
    “Final count?”
    “Five dead, looks like eleven injured, all seriously. Burns are mostly third degree.”
    “You canvass?”
    “Yep. But nobody saw anything. Most of the guests who were here just vanished. They weren’t even checking out.” Simpson added that they had fled, with spouses, children, associates and suitcases in tow. The hotel staff had done nothing to stop them. Half the employees had left too, it seemed.
    “What about our witness?”
    “I’m trying to track him down. I found some people he was having lunch with. They said he saw Galt. That’s why I’d really love to find him.”
    “Who is he?”
    “His name’s Sam Vetter. Was here from Scottsdale on business. His first trip to the city.”
    A patrolman walked past. “Excuse me, I heard you mention the name Vetter?”
    “Right. Sam Vetter.”
    “He came up to me in the lobby. Said he had some information about Galt.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Oh, you didn’t know?” the officer said. “He was one of the victims. Was in the revolving door. He’s dead.”

Chapter 41
    AMELIA SACHS RETURNED with the evidence.
    Rhyme’s eyes narrowed as she walked quickly into the town house. In her wake was a repulsive odor. Burned hair, burned rubber, burned flesh. Some crips believed they had an increased sense of smellbecause of their disability; Rhyme wasn’t sure if this was true but in any case he had no problem detecting the stench.
    He looked over the evidence Sachs and a crime scene tech from Queens had carted in. The hungry itch to tackle the mysteries the clues might reveal filled him. As Sachs and Cooper laid it out, Rhyme asked, “ESU find where Galt got out of the tunnel?”
    “No sign of him. None at all.” She looked around. “Where’s