The Broken Window

“What do you think of the M.O.?”

“If it’s true it’s brilliant.” Cooper gazed at the evidence chart of the Alice Sanderson homicide.

“Thoughts?” Rhyme asked.

“Well, half the evidence at your cousin’s was in the car or the garage. A lot easier to plant it there than in the house.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

The doorbell rang again. A moment later Rhyme heard his aide’s footsteps returning solo. Rhyme was wondering if someone had delivered a package. But then his mind jumped: Sunday. A visitor could be in street clothes and running shoes, which would make no sound on the entryway floor.

Of course.

Young Ron Pulaski turned the corner and nodded shyly. He wasn’t a rookie any longer, having been a uniformed patrolman for several years. But he looked like a rookie and so, to Rhyme, that’s what he was. And probably would always be.

The shoes were indeed quiet Nikes but he was wearing a very loud Hawaiian shirt over blue jeans. His blond hair was stylishly spiked and a scar prominently marked his forehead-a remnant from a nearly fatal attack during his first case with Rhyme and Sachs. The assault was so vicious that he’d suffered a brain injury and nearly quit the force. The young man had decided to fight his way through rehab and stay on the NYPD, inspired largely by Rhyme (a fact he shared only with Sachs, of course, not the criminalist himself; she relayed the news).

He blinked at Cooper’s tux and then nodded hello to both men.

“Your dishes spotless, Pulaski? Your flowers watered? Your leftovers tucked away in freezer bags?”

“I left right away, sir.”

The men were going over the case when they heard Sachs’s voice from the doorway. “A costume party.” She was looking at Cooper’s tuxedo and Pulaski’s brash shirt. To the lab man she said, “You’re looking pretty smart. That’s the word for somebody in a tux, right? ‘Smart’?”

“Sadly, ‘semifinalist’ is the only thing that comes to my mind.”

“Is Gretta taking it well?”

His beautiful Scandinavian girlfriend was, he reported, “hanging out with her friends and drowning her sorrows with Aquavit. Her homeland’s beverage. But, if you ask me, it’s undrinkable.”

“How’s your mom?”

Cooper lived with his mother, a feisty lady who was a long-term Queensean.

“She’s doing well. Out for brunch at the Boat House.”

Sachs also asked about Pulaski’s wife and two young children. Then added, “Thanks for coming in on Sunday.” To Rhyme: “You did tell him how much we appreciate it, didn’t you?”

“I’m sure I did,” he muttered. “Now, if we could get to work… So what’ve you got?” He eyed the large brown folder she carried.

“Evidence inventory and photos from the coin theft and rape.”

“Where’s the actual P.E.?”

“Archived in the evidence warehouse on Long Island.”

“Well, let’s take a look.”

As she had with his cousin’s file, Sachs picked up a marker and began writing on another whiteboard.

HOMICIDE/THEFT-MARCH 27

March 27

Crime: Homicide, theft of six boxes of rare coins

COD: Blood loss, shock, due to multiple stab wounds

Location: Bay Ridge, Brooklyn

Victim: Howard Schwartz

Suspect: Randall Pemberton

EVIDENCE LOG FROM VICTIM’S HOUSE:

· Grease

· Flecks of dried hair spray

· Polyester fibers

· Wool fibers

· Shoeprint of size 9 1/2 Bass walker

Witness reported man in tan-colored vest fleeing to black Honda Accord

EVIDENCE INVENTORY FROM SUSPECT’S HOUSE AND CAR:

· Grease on umbrella on patio, matching what was found at victim’s house

· Pair of 9 1/2 Bass walkers

· Clairol hair spray, matching fleck found at scene

· Knife/Trace embedded in handle:

· Dust matching nothing at either crime scene or suspect’s house

· Flecks of old cardboard

· Knife/Trace on blade:

· Victim’s blood. Positive match

· Suspect owned 2004 black Honda Accord

· One coin identified as coming from the collection of victim

· A Culberton Outdoor Company vest, tan. Polyester fiber found at the scene matches

· A wool blanket in the car. The wool fiber at the scene matches

Note: Prior to trial, investigators canvassed major coin dealers in metro area or on the Internet. No one attempted to fence the particular stolen coins.

“So if our perp stole the coins he’s kept them. And ‘dust matching nothing at either crime scene.’…That means it probably came from the perp’s house. But what the hell kind of dust is it? Didn’t they analyze it?” Rhyme shook his head. “Okay, I want to see the pictures. Where are they?”

“I’m getting them. Hold on.”

Sachs found some tape and mounted printouts on a third whiteboard. Rhyme maneuvered closer and squinted up at the dozens of photos of the crime scenes. The coin collector’s living space was tidy, the perp’s less so. The kitchen, where the coin and knife had been found, under the sink, was cluttered, the table covered with dirty dishes and food cartons. On the table was a pile of mail, most of it apparently junk.

“Next one,” he announced. “Let’s go.” He tried to keep his voice from tipping into impatience.

HOMICIDE/RAPE-APRIL 18

April 18

Crime: Homicide, rape

COD: Strangulation