The Steel Kiss

Now, the good news is that she won’t find my favorite store where I often go before or after my burgers, not on this street, not nearby. It’s a subway stop away. Still, there are other connections she might make.

Have to take care of this.

Everything good in my mind’s now knocked aside: the visit to my brother later today, fun fun fun with Alicia tonight, the next death on my schedule.

Plans have changed.

So has your luck, Red. Get yourself red-y. The joke sours, I’m so angry. When she steps into a bodega to ask some questions about the bean boy I step out onto the sidewalk. Moving wide around the White Castle, where they know about me now.

My wonderful White Castle. Where I can never go again.

I hike my backpack higher on my shoulder. And move fast.

* * *

“You were right,” Rhyme was saying. “Your deductions.”

Though he reflected he hardly needed to tell her this. Juliette Archer, he’d decided, was somebody who wouldn’t draw conclusions unless she had a good—no, extremely good—basis for knowing they were accurate.

She wheeled closer.

Rhyme continued, “Though the reason we have to sue right away isn’t other plaintiffs. Or only that. It’s that the victim’s widow and her son are in a bad way.” He explained about the lack of insurance, their debt. About the garage in upstate New York, their soon-to-be—perhaps long-term—home.

Archer offered no opinion about Schenectady but the stillness in her face suggested she appreciated the hardship that loomed. He described the additional issue of Frommer’s complicated employment history. “The attorney’s building the case to prove that this was a temporary slump. But that might be hard to do.”

Archer’s eyes shone. “But if you can prove the defendant did something particularly egregious or careless, there may be punitive damages.”

Maybe, as Whitmore suggested of Rhyme himself, Archer should have gone to law school as well.

Boston Legal…

“To threaten them with punitive damages,” Rhyme reminded. “We want to settle, and settle quickly.”

Archer asked, “When can we have access to the real deal? And all the evidence?”

“Could be months.”

“But can we make a case for liability from just the mock-up?”

Rhyme said, “We’ll see.” He explained what Whitmore had told him about strict products liability and negligence, the possibility of an intervening cause that would shift liability away from the manufacturer.

“Our job, first, is to pinpoint the defect.”

“And find a very careless and a very rich defendant,” she said wryly.

“That’s the strategy. Thom!”

The aide appeared.

Rhyme said to Archer, “Why don’t you explain your situation to him?”

She did. Unlike Rhyme, she had not suffered a trauma to her spine; doctors had discovered a tumor that wound around the fourth and fifth cervical vertebrae (Rhyme’s injury had been at the fourth). Archer explained about the series of treatments and surgery that would ultimately render her as disabled as Rhyme, if not more so. Her life at the moment was consumed with adapting to the condition by changing careers to one more suitable to a quadriplegic and learning from an experienced patient—Lincoln Rhyme—what to expect and how to cope.

Thom said, “I’m happy to play the role of your caregiver too if you like, while you’re here.”

“Would you?”

“Delighted to,” he said.

She wheeled about and faced Rhyme. “Now what can I do?”

“Research escalator accidents, particularly this model. See if similar accidents have ever happened before. Whitmore said that might be admissible. And get the maintenance manuals. A contractor leased us a part of the escalator but they haven’t delivered the documents yet. I want to know everything about it.”

“Let’s see if the company or the city is ordering inspections of similar models.”

“Yes, good.” He hadn’t thought of this.

“Computer I can use?”

Rhyme pointed out a desktop nearby. He knew she could use her right hand on the controller but keyboarding was not a possibility. “Could you set Juliette up with a headset and microphone. For computer three.”

“Sure. Over here.”

Her self-confidence suddenly dimmed and for the first time since he’d met her, Archer seemed uneasy, presumably for having to rely on someone else’s help, other than her brother’s. She was looking at the computer as if it were a stray dog whose tail was not wagging. Arguing with Rhyme about starting her internship had been different. They were equals. Here she was having to rely on an able-bodied person. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“This is the least of my trials and tribulations.” Thom fitted her with the headset and a touchpad for her right hand. Then he booted up the computer. “You can print out anything you find. But we don’t do that much. Easier for everybody to use the monitors.” Rhyme used a page-turning frame but that was mostly for books, magazines or documents that arrived already in hard-copy form.