The Coffin Dancer (Lincoln Rhyme, #2)
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Model 40
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reticles
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H&Ks
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The great aviation writer Ernest K. Gann wrote that fate was a hunter. Percey’d always thought he meant nature
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“They oughta make body armor for the soul, Amie. They oughta do that.”
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It’s the process of tracing a piece of evidence back to a single source, to the exclusion of all other sources.
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7.62-millimeter Beretta.
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It was probably old; it showed breach spread.
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And the Dancer had apparently loaded them with his knuckles to avoid prints. An old trick.
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bifurcations
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“Apparently the Dancer didn’t bother to tell him that the victim was his stepfather.”
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sociopath—all professional killers were—and
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He looked at the type on the computer screen. The letters were backwards. A mirror! He was sighting on a mirror. It was another trap!
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A fool can throw a stone into a pond that a dozen wise men can’t recover.
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slapped the lens.
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He tickled the heart of one marshal with a stab in the back and then, swish, swish, sliced apart the throat of the second guard. Lying
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In the valley of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.
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“You deposited the money in the Bahamas. You’d gotten Stephen Kall’s name from somewhere—I don’t know where exactly, probably a mercenary network”—the Dancer nodded—“and you hired him as a subcontractor. Anonymously, maybe by E-mail, maybe fax, using references he’d trust. You’d never meet him face-to-face, of course. And I assume you tried him out?”
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