The Bone Collector
“Thom instructed. “Then hit that number there. Speed dial. It’s Pete Taylor, our spinal cord specialist.”Sellitto made the calls.Thom was shouting, “I’ll need some help here. Somebody!”Sachs was closest. She nodded, stepped up to Rhyme. The aide had grabbed the unconscious man under the arms and pulled him higher up in bed. He ripped open the shirt and prodded the pale chest, saying, “Everybody else, if you could just leave us.”Sellitto, Banks and Cooper hesitated for a moment then stepped throu...gh the doorway. Sellitto closed the door behind them.A beige box appeared in the aide’s hands. It had switches and dials on the top and sprouted a wire ending in a flat disk, which he placed over Rhyme’s chest and taped down.“Phrenic nerve stimulator. It’ll keep him breathing.” He clicked on the machine.Thom slipped a blood-pressure cuff onto Rhyme’s alabaster-white arm. Sachs realized with a start that his body was virtually wrinkle-free. He was in his forties but his body was that of a twenty-five-year-old.“Why’s his face so red?MoreLess
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