She stepped out of the elevator, crossed the lobby. "For an MD in a maximum lockup, he managed to get his hands on plenty of data."
She paused at the door and simply stood for a moment looking out at the thin, steady snow. "You got off-planet clearance, Peabody?"
"Sure. It's a job requirement."
"Right. Well, go home and pack a bag. I want you on your way to Rexal on the first transport we can arrange. You and McNab can check out the facilities, find the unit Palmer had access to."
The initial rush from the idea of an off-planet assignment turned to ashes in her mouth. "McNab? I don't need McNab."
"When you find the unit, you'll need a good electronics man." Eve opened the door, and the blast of cold cooled the annoyed flush on Peabody 's cheeks.
"He's a pain in the ass."
"Sure he is, but he knows his job. If Feeney can spare him, you're the off-planet team." She reached for her communicator, intending to interrupt Feeney's sleep and get the ball rolling. A scream from the end of the block had her drawing her weapon instead.
She pounded west, boots digging into the slick sidewalk. With one quick gesture, she signaled Dalrymple to stay at his post in the surveillance van.
She saw the woman first, wrapped in sleek black fur, clinging to a man with an overcoat over a tux. He was trying to shield her face and muffle her mouth against his shoulder. The pitch and volume of her screams indicated he wasn't doing a very good job of it.
"Police!" He shouted it as he saw Peabody and Eve running toward them. "Here's the police, honey. My God, my God, what's this city coming to? He threw it out, threw it out right at our feet."
It, Eve saw, was Carl Neissan. His naked and broken body lay face up against the curb. His head had been shaved, she noted, and the tender skin abraded and burned. His knees were shattered, his protruding tongue blackened. Around his neck, digging deep, was the signature noose. And the message carved into his chest was still red and raw.
WOE UNTO YOU ALSO, YE LAWYERS!
The woman's screaming had turned to wailing now. Eve tuned it out. With her eyes on the body, she pulled out her communicator. "This is Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. I have a homicide."
She gave Dispatch the necessary information, then turned to the male witness. "You live around here?"
"Yes, yes, this building on the corner. We were just coming home from a party when – "
"My aide is going to take your companion inside, away from this. Out of the cold. We'll need her statement. I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out here with me for a few minutes."
"Yes, of course. Yes. Honey." He tried to pry his wife's hands from around his neck. "Honey, you go with the policewoman. Go inside now."
" Peabody," Eve said under her breath, "take honey out of here, get what you can out of her."
"Yes, sir. Ma'am, come with me." With a couple of firm tugs Peabody had the woman.
"It was such a shock," he continued. "She's very delicate, my wife. It's such a shock."
"Yes, sir, I'm sure it is. Can I have your names, please?"
"What? Oh. Fitzgerald. George and Maria."
Eve got the names and the address on record. In a few minutes she would have a crowd to deal with, she knew. Even jaded New Yorkers would gather around a dead, naked body on Madison Avenue.
"Can you – sir, look at me," she added when he continued to stare at the body. He was going faintly green. "Look at me," she repeated, "and try to tell me exactly what happened."
"It was all so fast, so shocking." Reaction began to set in, showing in the way his hand trembled as he pressed it to his face. "We'd just come from the Andersons '. They had a holiday party tonight. It's only a block over, so we walked. We'd just crossed the street when there was a squeal of brakes. I barely paid attention to it – you know how it is."
"Yes, sir. What did you see?"
"I glanced back, just out of reflex, I suppose. I saw a dark car – black, I think. No, no, not a car – one of those utility vehicles. The sporty ones. It stopped right here. Right here. You can still see the skid marks in the snow. And then the door opened. He pushed – he all but flung this poor man out, right at our feet."
"You saw the driver?"
"Yes, yes, quite clearly. This corner is very well lit. He was a young man, handsome. Light hair. He smiled… he smiled at me just as the door opened. Why, I think I smiled back. He had the kind of face that makes you smile. I'm sure I could identify him. I'm sure of it."
"Yeah." Eve let out a breath, watched the wind snatch it away as the first black-and-whites arrived on the scene. You wanted to be seen, didn't you, Dave? she thought. And you wanted me to be close, very close, when you gave me Carl.
"You can go inside with your wife, Mr. Fitzgerald. I'll be in touch."
"Yes, of course. Thank you. I – it's Christmas week," he said with honest puzzlement in his eyes. "You live in the city, you know terrible things can and do happen. But it's Christmas week."
"Joy to the world," Eve murmured as he walked away. She turned around and ordered the uniforms to secure the scene and prepare for the crime-scene team. Then she crouched beside Carl and got to work.
CHAPTER NINE
Eve spent most of the next thirty hours backtracking, searching for the step she was sure she had missed. With Peabody off-planet, she did the work herself, rerunning searches and scans, compiling data, studying reports.
She did personal drop-bys at both the safe house where Justine and her family were being kept and Mira's home. She ran checks on their security bracelets to confirm that they were in perfect working order.
He couldn't get to them, she assured herself as she paced her office. With them out of reach, he would have no choice but to come for her.
Jesus, she wanted him to come for her.
It was a mistake, she knew it was a mistake, to make it a personal battle. But she could see his face too clearly, hear his soft prep-school voice so perfectly.
But you see, Lieutenant Dallas, the work you do is nothing more than a stopgap. You don't change anything. However many criminals you lock up today, there'll be that many and more tomorrow. What I'm doing changes everything. The answers to questions every human being asks. How much is too much, how much will the mind accept, tolerate, bear, if you will, before it shuts down? And before it does, what thoughts, what impulses go through the mind as the body dies?
Death, Lieutenant, is the focus of your work and of mine. And while we both enjoy the brutality that goes with it, in the end I'll have my answers. You'll only have more questions.
She only had one question now, Eve thought. Where are you, Dave?
She turned back to her computer. "Engage, open file Palmer, H3492-G. Cross-reference all files and data pertaining to David Palmer. Run probability scan. What is the probability that Palmer, David, is now residing in New York City?"
Working… Using current data the probability is ninety-seven point six that subject Palmer now resides in New York City.
"What is the probability that subject Palmer resides in a private home?"
Working… probability ninety-five point eight that subject Palmer is residing in a private home at this time.
"Given the status of the three remaining targets of subject Palmer, which individual will he attempt to abduct next?"
Working… strongest probability is for target Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Attempts on targets Polinsky and Mira are illogical given current status.
"That's what you're hoping for."
She turned her head. Roarke stood in the doorway between their offices, watching her. "That's what I'm counting on."