Page 9 of The Midnight Lock (Lincoln Rhyme 14)

“That sounds right.”

“And on that day were you outside your town house for any reason?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, I’ll refresh your memory. You gave a lecture at the Manhattan School of Criminal Justice on West Seventy-Fourth Street. This was at ten a.m.”

“I’d have to check.”

“Your lecture was on YouTube. It’s time-stamped.”

“Then,” Rhyme said stiffly, “I guess the answer is yes.”

“Your Honor,” Coughlin said as he lifted another document and approached the bench, “I’d like to introduce into evidence Defense Exhibit One.” He handed two copies to a woman bailiff, who gave one to the judge and the other to Sellars. The ADA read through the pages and then looked at Rhyme with a frown.

After skimming her copy, the judge asked, “Mr. Sellars?”

A sigh. “No objection.”

Coughlin approached Rhyme and placed a copy open before him. “Mr. Rhyme, this is a report from Albrecht and Tanner Forensic Services. Are you familiar with them?”

“I am.”

“Could you describe them to the court?”

“They are a private forensic laboratory. They do commercial work for construction and manufacturing companies mostly.”

“Are they a respected operation?”

“Yes.”

“This report was commissioned by my firm and, in full disclosure, I’ll add that we paid the company’s standard fee for their services. I’m reading from their report. ‘Our technicians collected eighty-four ground samples from sidewalks, gardens, planting beds and public works sites.

“‘These samples were stored in sterile containers and returned for analysis in our laboratory. Per instructions, our technicians were told to look for the presence of calcium sulfate dihydrate, with silicon dioxide, in combination with C12H24—saturated hydrocarbons(seventy-five percent) and aromatic hydrocarbons (twenty-five percent). Our analysts did find significant quantities of such substances.’”

Coughlin cast a dramatic glance toward the jury then to his witness. “Mr. Rhyme, what the report is describing is a particular type of sand mixed in with diesel fuel, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You see the proportion of chemicals in those samples?”

Rhyme looked down.

“I do.”

“And is that proportion identical to the proportion of chemicals in the six grains of sand the prosecution introduced as evidence linking my client to the murder scene?”

Rhyme looked toward Sellars, then quickly away. “It is.”

Coughlin returned to the report. “Under the heading ‘Location of Collection,’ the report states, ‘These samples of sand came from a work site on the west side of Central Park West, in the three hundred block.’ Mr. Rhyme.” Coughlin turned. “Is your town house, which contains your laboratory, located in the three hundred block of Central Park West?”

Clearing his throat, he responded. “Yes.”

“Is it possible, Mr. Rhyme, that those six grains of sand you claim link my client’s home to the site where Leon Murphy was killed came not from either of those locations, but from right outside your front door, and that they were tracked into your laboratory in the treads of your wheelchair, and that therefore no trace evidence exists suggesting my client is guilty?”

Rhyme’s lips tightened.

“Your Honor?” Coughlin asked.

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