The Bone Collector Page #4

You can do it. Yes, you can.

Yesterdayyou stopped a train.

You can do anything you want

when you putyour mind to it.

Don't work me, Rhyme.

- Just tellme what to do next.

- Very slowly, walk the grid...

one footin frontofthe other.

I wantyou tolookaroundyounow.

Remember...

crime scenes are three-dimensional--

floors, walls and ceilings.

Yeah, I'm here.

There's something strange.

Things heleftforus?

Yes.

- In a clusteragain?

- There's asmallpiece ofwood...

anditlooks likesomehair.

I'm gonna walkyou through

collecting the evidence.

You do everything

exactly as I say.

- Oh,Jesus.

- Talk tome.

- It's a bloody bone.

- Where is it?

It's in my f***ing hand.

Human?

I think so, yeah.

Photograph it...

bag it.

Okay, that's it.

I'm outta here.

Onemore thing.

We gotta process the body.

What?I'm nomedicalexaminer.

Ican'tdo that.

I'm notaskingyou to do anautopsy.

I just wantyou to--

Just describe the restraints.

They're strange-looking handcuffs.

They look more like

old shackles or something.

Andthere's a chain

across her waist.

And her feet are...

bound with a rope.

Hands above herhead?

Yeah.

There's also a large piece offlesh

missing from her right forearm.

It's right down to the bone,

like it was surgically removed.

This is what I wantyou to do.

We're gonna need those handcuffs.

It'sprobably ourbestchance

forgoodprints.

The M.E. can remove them

when they get here.

The M.E. is all thumbs.

They'll mess up the prints.

Look in the suitcase.

There's a small saw.

Okay.

I wantyou to saw her hands off

at the wrist line.

We gotta have those cuffs

forprints.

I can't.

Cut her hands off.

We need the handcuffs.

I can't. No.

Saw off her hands,

take off the cuffs.

Listen to me. Saw off her h--

We need those cuffs.

I can't!

- Amelia, we need--

- No, fuckyou!

Ifhe wants that woman's hands cut off,

he can come down and do it himself.

Hello?

Who is it?

Jesus.

- Take it easy.

- Sh*t, what areyou doing?

- You okay?

- Am I okay? What areyou doing?

Rhyme has been trying

to call you for hours.

Your phone's down.

He was concerned.

My phone's fi ne.

I don't need his concern.

He needs you over

at his place right away.

I don't work for Lincoln Rhyme.

Rhyme thinks the evidenceyou collected

indicates there's anothervic in play.

And he's laying that at my feet?

Don't shoot the messenger.

- Youjust move in?

- Yeah, about a year ago.

Really?

- You were a model.

- Yeah, when I was a kid.

Kid model to street cop--

there's a leap.

Forwhatever it's worth...

I thought whatyou did today

was pretty damn terrific.

Hey, you guys. I'm outta here.

I'm gonna grab a cab.

I got a paper to fi nish.

- I'm just gonna hang.

- I'll be there in a minute.

Taxi!

That bone's defi nitely not human.

- And the hair?

- Not human either.

- Well, what is it?

- Working fast as I can.

Glad to seeyou couldjoin us.

I got Cheney on the line.

He wants you to briefhim.

Tell him I'll call him back.

Two things:

First, you did a hell ofajob

locating the evidence.

There's no question

the perp knows forensics.

Now, as for the other thing...

the--

you know, the victim's hands--

well, maybe--

maybe it was too much to handle,

so we'll just forget it.

Is thatyourversion

ofan apology?

An apology?

Is that whyyou came over here?

- You really are a piece ofwork.

- Well, aren't we a pair?

I thinkyou're terrific.

You got a hell ofan arrest record too.

High marks from all your bosses,

defi nite gold shield potential.

Whyyou want to throw it all away

to chaseyouth offenders?

Oh, I don't feel I have any need

to explain that toyou.

Come on, Amelia. Cop to cop.

Cop to cop, let'sjust

leave it at ''personal reasons.''

Okay.

Doesn't have anything to do

with your father, does it?

Man, youjust keep

charging at walls, don'tyou?

Stubbornness is something

we both share.

They saywe come into this world

with a genetically preordained destiny.

I don't believe it.

For example, neither ofmy parents had

more than an eighth grade education.

Never read more

than one book between them-- not one.

I've read thousands.

- I've written a dozen.

- What's your point?

My point is that destiny is

whatyou make it.

Whatever happened toyour father

doesn't mean it's gonna happen toyou.

You're a great cop.

You'd make a terrific detective.

It's a gift.

Don't throw it away.

Report from the taxi commission.

An NYU student was abducted

late last night.

His girlfriend saw him

struggling to get out...

as the taxi driverwas

bludgeoning him with a flashlight.

No description ofthe driver.

Okay, everybody.

This could be our next victim.

Yeah, Tony. Paulie here.

It looks like we got anothervictim.

Did you get a deadline

off that evidenceyet?

Notyet. Something I was hoping

you'd help me with.

Anyone for some osso buco?

What?

The bone we found

at the Wall Street scene--

veal shank...

braised and overly salted to boot.

- Cow bone?

- Uh-huh.

And I also found

a piece ofthat old paper...

imbedded in the bone.

Take a look.

What's going on here?

Just do whatyou need to do

as quickly as possible, okay, Richard?

It's about the hair follicles.

He says they're not human.

A rodent, probably a rat.

And get this:

Theywere shaved off.

Oh, now we're looking for

a rat that shaves.

- I really like that.

- I've known a few in my time.

- How 'boutyou, Amelia?

- More than a few.

It's consistent with underground,

that's for sure.

What's he trying to say to us?

Defi nitely communicating

in our language...

leaving clues--

forensic clues at that.

Maybe it's a cop.

Maybe.

Maybe he's trying to share the

responsibility ofthese murders with us.

Ifwe don't figure out the clues

in time, the blood's on our hands.

We don't fi nd the victim in time, we're

as responsible for the murders as he is.

Whatyou got on the dirt

you scraped from the wood, Eddie?

I don't have it 1 00% individuated,

but it does appear nitrogen-rich.

- All set, ready to rock and roll.

- All right.

- Thanks for rushing. I appreciate it.

- All right, Thelma.

Thankyou, Richard.

Nitrogen rich, explosive carbons--

where doyou fi nd those in New York?

Bomb sites, shooting ranges.

Maybe an old fort or an armory?

Let's not forget

the sh*t factor, guys.

The what?

Manure becomes a nitrate

when it's aged.

That's true.

And you got cow bones, huh?

Old cow bones, old manure.

Turn ofthe century, cows, farms...

pastures, rats--

Dead cows.

Where doyou fi nd--

In stockyards.

Slaughterhouses,

that's what we want to look for.

Stockyards and slaughterhouses

from the turn ofthe century.

- Let's start there.

- Check the internet.

Okay, I want tax records, sanitation

records and building code inspections...

last hundred years, okay?

Man, your blood pressure is

way up.

- You're pushing it too hard, Rhyme.

- I understand, Thelma.

What do we got

on the stockyards over there?

- We're almost there.

- Okay, that one's no good.

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