Shaky-hand.
He wiped sweat and put the tissue away.
Oh, Euterpe…Calm me down, please!
Then he saw Khaled’s fingers twitch several times. This was not, however, a sign of waking. He would be snoozing for some period of time. Stefan knew his drugs well. Crazy people are savvy pharmacists.
Stefan relaxed. He now had a task. He sat beside Khaled. He reached down and, on a whim, took the man’s hand. He clicked his own fingernails against Khaled’s.
Click, click…
Delicious.
From his pocket he took his recorder and undid the man’s shirt.
Now he turned the device on and pressed it against Khaled’s chest. The heartbeat was, of course, slow and soft, as with anyone in sleep, but because the room was so quiet the sound was captured clearly and distinctly.
He had the beat. Now he needed the melody. Scrolling through his library, he found one that practically begged to be the soundtrack of his next video.
Stefan could think of no other waltz that so perfectly blended music and death.
Chapter 47
About time,” Rhyme muttered.
The evidence from the most recent kidnapping had arrived and Ercole was assisting Beatrice in setting it out on the examination tables in the lab. Rhyme, Sachs and Thom were observing from the situation room.
“His shoe?” Rhyme asked. This discovery surprised, and pleased, him. Shoes are wonderful forensically; not only do they often offer distinctive tread marks to help link a perp to a scene, but the shoe itself can contain a treasure of DNA, fingerprints and, in running shoes like this, trace tucked into the cavities of the sole. Rhyme had once nailed a perp because of the precious way he tied his oxfords.
Sachs explained how the Composer had lost it in the struggle with the victim’s, Khaled’s, wife.
In a gloved hand, Ercole carried the shoe to Rhyme. “A Converse Con, in the proper size.”
Beatrice barked, “Why you have picked it up?”
He turned and glared at her. “I simply am showing it to Captain Rhyme. He had commented on it. It’s in an evidence bag. And I am wearing gloves.”
“But now we are needing to include another chain-of-custody entry! And everywhere a piece of evidence travels, there can be risk of contaminated.”
True. Rhyme lifted an eyebrow to Ercole, who sighed, set the shoe down on a table and signed the card Beatrice offered.
Dante Spiro and Massimo Rossi joined them.
Spiro cast a look Ercole’s way. “Now, Forestry Officer, it is safe to say we have the start of a pattern. Will you concede that?”
“Refugees.”
“Sì. That is his preferred target—in Italy, at least. We have three such victims.”
Rossi said, “The director of the camp is convinced that he is targeting asylum-seekers because he believes we will not be so diligent in pursuing the case. Although that is hardly true.” He waved at the charts.
“But,” Ercole said, “I am wondering…”
Spiro said, “How this is in harmony with the businessman in New York?”
“Correct, Procuratore.”
“There will be a way to incorporate that, I believe. Patterns are not always symmetrical. We are not sure yet. We are, however, advancing.”
Sachs then said, “You mentioned the director, Rania Tasso. One thing she told me that was interesting. I’m not sure what to make of it. She said the Composer didn’t kill Malek Dadi. He tried to save him.”
“Is this true?” Rossi asked.
Spiro was frowning but said nothing.
“She was sure,” Sachs continued.
“Who then was the killer?”
“Muggers, thieves. Some refugees in the camp. They got to him before the Composer did and when Dadi fought back, the Composer ran toward them to stop them. But it was too late.”
Ercole said, “Odd. A curious element to his profile.”
Rhyme, however, wasn’t interested in profiles. “Two lions going after a gazelle. Neither wants to give up his prey, which is going to end up as a main course one way or the other. Nothing remarkable about that. Let’s see what the evidence tells us.”
Rossi placed a call and, after a conversation in Italian, disconnected. “No video yet has been posted online.”
A half hour later Beatrice Renza walked from the sterile portion of the lab and joined them, clipboard in her grip. She handed it to Ercole without comment and picked up a marker. He translated and she wrote.
Capodichino Reception Center Kidnapping
—Victim: —Khaled Jabril, Libyan citizen, 36. Asylum-seeker. Tripoli.
—Eurodac: No criminal/terrorist connection.
—Tire print Michelin 205/55R16 91H, same as at other scenes.
—Perpetrator’s shoe recovered in struggle. —Converse Con, Size 10? (m)/13 (f)/45 (European) —Minimum wear.
—No fingerprints, but evidence of latex glove prints present.
—DNA evidence collected. —Matches Composer’s.
—Gamma hydroxybutyric acid.
—Triacylglycerols, free fatty acids, glycerol, sterols, phosphatides, dark-green pigment. Microscopic fragments of what appears to be organic material.
—Miniature noose, from musical instrument string, as at other scenes. —Cello.
—No fingerprints.
—No DNA.
—Trace collected from clothing of Fatima Jabril. —Soil from Capodichino area.
—Nothing else distinctive.
“No fingerprints on his shoe?” Rhyme muttered. “What the hell does he do? Wear gloves in his sleep?” Then, frowning. “That entry: the gamma hydroxybutyric. The hell is that doing there?”
Spiro said, “Yes, how can that be?”
Ercole had a conversation with Beatrice. He said, “It was recovered from soil in the tread of the Composer’s shoe.”
“Impossible. It’s not from this case. It’s from the Garry Soames case. That’s the date-rape drug. There’s been cross-contamination. Hell.”
Rossi now explained this to Beatrice, who replied in an even tone, not in the least defensive. The inspector said, “She says she too was surprised to find the drug on the shoe. She was very careful with the evidence. There was no contamination in the lab. Garry Soames’s clothing was processed in a different part of the lab and by a different examiner.”
All eyes were now on Ercole. Spiro said, “You picked it up, Forestry Officer. And you collected the drug trace at Garry Soames’ apartment.”
“Yes. And I wore gloves. Then and now. And the shoes were in a sealed evidence bag.”
“Still, there is obvious contamination.”
“If I am responsible for this, then I’m sorry. But I do not believe I am.”
Beatrice turned her round, stony face his way.
Rhyme saw the dismay in the young man’s eyes. Lesson delivered. “It’s not the end of the world, Ercole. The problem will be at trial. A defense lawyer could get the evidence from the shoe thrown out on those grounds. But we can ignore it for the moment. Our goal is to find him. The contamination’ll be the U.S. attorney’s problem at trial in the Southern District.”