The Watchmaker’s Hand

Sachs skimmed the articles. “Wonder if the perps did their homework. Most of the Soviet buildings’ve been torn down and replaced by — you guessed it — expensive bourgeois apartments.”

Rhyme was intrigued. Forensically, sabotage was no more interesting than his current stolen engineering document case. The deadline, however, and the risk of more death, now moved Unsub 212 to a lower priority.

Rhyme asked, “How did he do it? IED?”

Sellitto answered, “No explosives that anybody heard. Somehow, he got to the counterweights, tinkered with them. The foreman doesn’t know. It changed the balance and the thing went down. Oh, you’re going to be getting a—”

Rhyme’s mobile whirred and he commanded, “Answer phone.”

He then said into the unit, “Yes?”

A woman’s harried voice. “Captain Rhyme?”

“That’s right.”

“Please hold for Mayor Harrison.”

A moment later the man’s smooth voice came through the speaker. “Captain Rhyme.”

“Mayor.”

Knowing Rhyme wouldn’t bother with such protocols, Sachs said, “You’re on speaker with Detectives Sachs and Sellitto.”

“Lon. You’re there.”

“Just briefing Lincoln and Amelia now.”

“I wanted to let you know that we’re not agreeing. You know our policy.”

The city didn’t pay ransom and it didn’t give in to extortion demands.

The man continued, “We couldn’t do what they’re asking anyway. Whoever’s behind this has no idea of what’s involved. There’re a hundred documents we’d have to put together. A nonprofit needs a three-person board, president, VP, secretary, treasurer, registered agent, and, Christ, a million approvals: the state revenue, IRS, EPA. Hell, a budget. Needs to be funded. We can’t deed anything over until all that’s done, which would take weeks or months...”

“Can you buy time?” Sachs asked.

“They set up that chat room on 13Chan. It’s closed to the public, but we can post. I wrote that we need more time.”

“They responded?”

“Two words. ‘See above.’ I’ll show you.” He recited a complicated URL and Sachs typed it into a nearby computer. A header for the site popped up, and in a private messaging window appeared a line drawing:

The mayor said, “No other response.”

Sachs asked, “This the first time there’s been affordable housing extortion in the city?”

“Protests, peaceful shit. Chaining themselves to jobsites, throwing eggs. Never violence.”

Rhyme’s eyes were on the wreckage. From a distance, the machines looked fragile. But the close-up images in the videos showed sturdy steel rods and support brackets.

Then again, had the Kommunalka Project actually been behind it?

“Timing?” he asked.

A pause. “How’s that, Captain?”

“Did the demand come in before the crane fell or after?”

“Oh, you’re thinking it was an accident and this group jumped on the bandwagon. It was ten minutes before the collapse.”

Answering that question.

Sachs asked, “We’re looking at the news. Nothing about the demand.”

“No. We’re not announcing. That’ll mean panic. I’ve ordered all high-rise construction suspended for the time being and we’re getting officers to every site where there’s a tower crane.”

“That’s going to raise questions,” Sachs pointed out.

In an off-hand tone, Harrison said, “Ah, I’ll blame the feds or something. Hold on.”

Voices, urgent, sounded in the background of the mayor’s call.

“I have to go, Captain, Detectives. Please, do whatever you can. The city’s resources? They’re at your disposal. Liaise with the Bureau and DHS.”

The call was disconnected.

Staring at the wreckage again. The blue of the tower was brilliant. Was it painted that way for safety? Or to advertise? Or simply cosmetics?

Sellitto poured some coffee from the carafe that had materialized. He walked to the computer monitor on the wall and squinted as he read the terrorists’ note.

“So, they’re not the brightest bulbs,” he said. “Maybe we can use that.”

“How’s that?” Rhyme queried.

“Misspellings — ‘obsene.’ And ‘its’ without an apostrophe.”

Rhyme clicked his tongue. “Those were intentional, to make us think they’re stupid. They’re not.”

“Yeah?”

“Other rules of grammar and punctuation’re right. They use ‘that’ and ‘which’ correctly. ‘That’ restricts the meaning of the preceding word: ‘the properties that are on the list below.’ ‘Which’ is nonrestrictive — providing optional information. For instance: where they happened to have learned about the city’s lack of redevelopment plans.”

“Linc—”

“And they use ‘since’ correctly too, meaning ‘from a point in time.’ It can be used to mean ‘because,’ but that’s not preferred. And see, they use ‘because’ in the proper sense a few sentences later. And the apostrophe before the gerund. ‘Developers’ building...’ That’s correct.”

“Gerund?”

Rhyme: “It’s a verb used as a noun. ‘Running is good for you.’ Or so I’m told. A gerund takes the possessive. Is no one else aware of these rules? Astonishing.”

“Jesus, Linc, when your students make a little screwup on their papers, you give them shit like this?”

He frowned. “An F. Of course.” A nod toward the post on the screen. “The chat room’s anonymous. But the original email. Who sent it and how?”