The Cutting Edge (Lincoln Rhyme #14)(111)

And no rough diamonds worth five million dollars.

Where were the stones? And Rostov’s electronics? She supposed he kept everything, hotel key included, in the Toyota, in case he needed to make a fast getaway. The car key was likely hidden in the wheel well. After Breaking Bad, the TV series, a surprising number of perps had been doing this.

The lack of leads, she’d explained to Rhyme, had inspired her to conscript the geologist—a bit of a desperate move, she admitted. Though a reasonable one, in Rhyme’s opinion.

Sachs transcribed the sparse evidentiary finds on a whiteboard and stepped back, hands on hips, worrying a thumbnail with an index finger. Staring, staring, staring.

Rhyme was doing the same. “Anything more?” he called to Cooper.

“Just checking the last of the trace from the hotel room. Should be a minute.”

But what would that show? Possibly some substance from a shoe print unique to where he’d planted a bomb. But what a long shot that would be.

He grimaced in frustration. A glance toward McEllis. “Anything, Don?”

The engineer was hunched forward, studying both the online geological maps and the hard-copy one that depicted the previous fires. He said, “I think so. He seems to have set the bombs along the Canarsie fault. See? It goes through downtown Brooklyn, near Cadman Plaza, then into the harbor. It’s two miles long, but most of that’s underwater. About a half mile is on land.” McEllis indicated a line through the densely populated borough.

Hell, Rhyme thought, too many basements to search. “We’ve got to narrow it down more.”

Mel Cooper called, “Got the last of the trace. Nothing pins Rostov to a particular place. Tobacco ash, ketchup, beef fat, soil associated with Brighton Beach geography. More kimberlite.”

Without looking up from the map, McEllis asked, “Kimberlite?”

Rhyme said, “That’s right. Our unsub picked some trace up at the first shooting. It’s on his clothes and shoes. He’s left it at a couple of the scenes.”

“Then you mean serpentinite. Not kimberlite. They’re in the same family.”

“No, it’s kimberlite. There’re diamond crystals embedded,” Cooper said, looking up. “I thought that made serpentinite into kimberlite.”

“It does,” McEllis whispered. “But…well, can I see a sample?”

Cooper looked toward Rhyme, who nodded.

The tech prepared a sample and set it on the stage of the compound microscope.

McEllis sat on the stool, bent forward and began adjusting the light above the stage. He focused. Sat back, looked away. Then back to the eyepiece. He used a needle probe to poke through the dust and fragments. His eyes remained against the soft rubber eyepieces but his shoulders rose, as did his heels, slightly. His body language suggested he was looking at something significant. He sat back and gave a soft laugh.

“What is it?” Sellitto asked.

“Well, if you found these rocks in New York City, then you’ve just rewritten geological history.”





Chapter 58



Kimberlite,” Don McEllis was telling those in the parlor. “You could call it the elevator that carries diamonds to the surface of the earth from the mantle—the part that’s just below the crust. Where diamonds are formed.”

The inspector returned to the microscope, as if he couldn’t resist, and studied the minerals on the instrument’s stage again. He continued sifting through the samples. “Hm. Well.” McEllis sat back once more and turned the stool to face the others. “Diamond-rich kimberlite—like this—has never been seen anywhere in New York State. The geology of the area doesn’t lend itself to diamond formation. New York is a ‘passive margin’ area. We have stable tectonic plates.”

“Impossible for kimberlite with diamonds to be found here?” Rhyme asked.

The man shrugged. “Better to say very unlikely. There’re about six thousand kimberlite pipes in the world but only about nine hundred contain diamonds…and only a couple of dozen have enough rough to make mining profitable. And none in the U.S. Oh, there was a bit of production years ago—in the South. Now they’re all tourist mines. You pay twenty bucks, or whatever, and pan for diamonds with the kids. But then again in Canada miners didn’t find kimberlite or diamonds until recently and now it’s a major producer. So, I suppose it could happen here.”

The inspector peered briefly into the microscope once more. “Where did you find this again?”

Rhyme responded, “Several places. At the shop where Patel, the diamond cutter, was killed. Vimal—his apprentice—had a bag with him. We didn’t think anything of it. We thought he was going to make it into jewelry. Or sculpt it. That’s his hobby.”

“You couldn’t carve kimberlite like this. The diamonds would make that impossible. Too hard.”

Rhyme scowled. “Assumption.”

“And the other sources?” McEllis asked.

Sachs said, “There was some trace at Saul Weintraub’s house—a witness who was murdered. It came from either the killer’s shoes or clothing.” She shrugged. “That’s what we thought. I suppose it might have come from Weintraub himself.”

Assumption…

Rhyme asked, “Say there were some larger pieces of this stuff. Would they be worth a lot? Worth killing for?”