Page 51 of The Midnight Lock (Lincoln Rhyme 14)

“Doesn’t alcohol?” Pulaski asked.

“No, Rookie. Alcohol is used to extract and store DNA. Regular bleach won’t do it either. You need to start reading my book.”

“I have. You don’t mention oxygen bleach.”

“Oh.” Rhyme hesitated. “It’s in the eighth edition.”

“I didn’t know there was an eighth. I have the seventh.”

Rhyme muttered, “The eighth’s not out yet. I’ll make sure you get a copy.”

Pulaski said, “If he’s that worried about DNA, it might mean he’s in CODIS.”

The database repository of DNA, accessible to law enforcement agencies. Unlike the fingerprint database, which logs the prints of millions of both criminals and innocent citizens (like those applying for government jobs or a concealed carry permit), nearly all those in CODIS have broken the law.

“Possibly, but most smart perps—like the Locksmith—are going to want to leave as little of themselves behind as possible as a matter of course.”

“Why didn’t he just take the glass with him?” Cooper wondered.

Sachs offered, “I’d guess he wanted to make sure she saw it. The intrusion was more invasive that way. He wants to cause the most damage he can. There’s a sadistic side to him.”

Pulaski said, “So the glass is useless as evidence.”

“Who said that, Rookie? Mel, the bleach. Give me the percentage breakdown of the sodium carbonate and peroxyhydrate.”

The tech told him the concentrations of the two ingredients.

Rhyme sighed. “Now, it’s useless. In those proportions, it’s off-the-shelf commercial oxy bleach. If they’d been unique amounts we could have deduced he made it himself and, therefore, had a degree or training in science. But this?” He gestured impatiently. “It tells us … he’s got cash and the address of a home improvement or drug store.”

Sachs’s phone hummed, and she answered.

“Lon. You’re on speaker.”

“Hey. I’d say hi to Lincoln, but I know he’s not there. On vacation somewhere, I’ll bet.”

Rhyme called out, “Hello, Lon. I understand you’re a co-conspirator too.”

Sellitto chuckled. “I didn’t hear that. Listen, I talked to Whittaker Media’s legal department. The chief general counsel, a guy named Douglas Hubert. They don’t have any names yet but he’s putting together a list of possible suspects who might have a gripe with the paper or the TV network. Going to be a long one. A lot of folks don’t care for the rag.”

“Disgruntled employees?”

“Hubert’s looking at them too. And he said that the head of the whole shebang, Averell Whittaker, is retiring and selling the company. I’m wondering if maybe a buyer hired the Locksmith then leaked the story to drive down the value of the company. Might be worth looking into.”

“We’ll do that, Lon.”

“Any leads?” Sellitto asked.

“Not yet.”

“All right. Keep me posted.”

After he’d disconnected, Rhyme said, “Let’s keep at it.”

Sachs and Cooper began examining each item for foreign substances the Locksmith might have left on the carpet or the objects he touched.

“More dried blood. From the carpet outside her bedroom. It matches the sample from the Talese scene.”

“Suggests that there was a fair amount of it he stepped in. Maybe he wiped at it but didn’t bother to seriously clean his shoes. Okay, what else?”

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