Chapter 75 Chapter Seventy-Five

While Rhyme was busy in front of the evidence desk, the electricity in the mansion went out. The screen of the computer is black, the machine is quiet, and the red, yellow and green tricolor diodes on the surrounding equipment no longer emit light. He turned his head from side to side. The basement door creaked.He heard footsteps, someone treading lightly on the dry old floor. "Who's that?" he called. "Tom? Is that you? Why's the power out?" The footsteps came closer and closer, then suddenly disappeared.Rhyme turned the wheelchair around.He scans the room, trying to find all the relevant evidence as if he were surveying a crime scene for the first time, forming an impression of everything on the scene, of course, looking for potential dangers, and finding out where the criminals may hide--the criminals may hide. Injured, may be panicking, or may be calmly waiting for a chance to kill a police officer.

There was another creak on the floor. He turned the wheelchair around again, but saw nothing.That's when he spotted a cell phone on an examination table across the room.The power was out elsewhere in the mansion, but the phone still worked. Battery…… Rhyme touched the control panel, and the wheelchair galloped forward.He rushed to the table and stopped, with his back to the door, his eyes fixed on his phone.It was within eighteen inches of his face. The LCD screen of the mobile phone glows green.It has power and can answer calls. "Tom?" he called again. no respond. Rhyme's temples were throbbing, the veins in his neck were twitching, his heart was beating like a drum.

He was the only one in the room, with limited mobility, and his eyes were fixed on the mobile phone less than two steps away.Rhyme turned the wheelchair slightly, then backed away quickly and slammed into the table.The mobile phone on the table shook, but did not leave the spot.Suddenly, he heard a strange noise in the room, and the intruder had already entered.He slammed into the table again, hard.But before the phone slid towards him, the man was already across the room behind him.A gloved hand rested on his shoulder and snatched the phone away. "Is that you?" Rhyme asked the man behind him. "Randall? Randall Jason?"

No one answered. There was a faint clicking sound from behind.There was a push on his shoulder, and the battery light on the wheelchair control touchpad went off.The intruder removed the brakes by hand and pushed the wheelchair to a place where the faint sunlight outside the window could shine. The man turned the wheelchair slowly. Rhyme opened his mouth to speak, but then squinted his eyes to look at the face within a short distance.He looked at it quietly for a while, then whispered: "This is impossible." Despite the successful plastic surgery, Rhyme can still see familiar marks on this face.Besides, how could he fail to recognize Richard Logan, the watchmaker, who was supposed to be hiding out in Mexico City by now?