“No.”

“Mr. Rhyme, you analyzed the bullet that killed Mr. Murphy, correct? That is, the lead slug?”

“Yes.”

“And you analyzed the shell casing too?”

“That’s correct.”

“And, once more, what caliber was that?”

“Nine-millimeter parabellum.”

“And you testified that the lands and grooves, that is the rifling of the barrel, suggest that the gun was a Glock seventeen.”

“A Glock definitely, a model seventeen most likely.”

“Mr. Rhyme, did you or any investigators you were working with check firearms records in any state or federal databases with regard to my client?”

“Yes.”

“And does or did he own a Glock, specifically a model seventeen?”

“I have no idea.”

“Explain, Mr. Rhyme.”

“He might own a dozen.”

“Your Honor,” said Coughlin. He sounded slightly wounded that Rhyme was treating him so unfairly.

Was Viktor Buryak on the verge of smiling?

“Mr. Rhyme.” The judge was growing weary.

“He asked if he owned a Glock, and I testified that I have no idea. Which I don’t. I can testify that the record shows that, in New York State, he owns nolegallyregistered Glocks.”

ADA Sellars said, “Your Honor, the defense is straying from Captain Rhyme’s contribution to the case, which is not firearms purchase records. It relates solely to his expertise in physical evidence.”

Coughlin said, “Let me lay this foundation, Your Honor. It will be clear in a moment where I’m going.”

Rhyme looked at his keen eyes and wondered what that destination might be.

“Proceed … for the moment.”

“Mr. Rhyme, to recap, could you confirm that my client’s DNA was not found at either the site of the body or site of the shell casing?”

“Correct.”

“Oronthe body or shell casing.”

“That’s true.”

“And his footprints and fingerprints were not found at either place?”

“Correct.”

“And no fibers or hairs that could be traced to him were found there?”