"We can access tax records, blueprints, specs. It'll take time."
"Time's running out. Let's get started."
At two she received word that Peabody and McNab had landed, and she ordered them to bring the unit to her home office. He was close, she thought again, and none of them should waste time working downtown.
The minute they walked in, she began outlining her plan of attack. "McNab, set up over there. Start checking out any financials, transfers, transmissions, using the chaplain's name. Or a combo of his and Palmer's. Peabody, contact Whitney, request a canvas of all private garages in the suspect area. I want uniforms, every warm body we can find, hitting the public parking facilities with orders to confiscate and review all security tapes for the past week."
"All, Lieutenant?"
"Every last one."
She swung around and into Roarke's office. Using his auxiliary unit, she called up data, shot it to screen. "I've got the residences of Palmer's targets in blue," she told Roarke. "We run from mid to upper Manhattan, heaviest population on the East Side. We need to concentrate on private homes in this ten-block radius. Unless something jumps out at you, disregard anything that doesn't fit this profile."
She rolled her shoulders to relieve the tension, closed her eyes to clear her mind. "It'll have a basement. Probably two stories in addition to it. Fully soundproofed and most likely with its own vehicle storage area. I've got them looking at public storage, but I'm betting he has his own. He wants me to find him, goddamn it, so it can't be that hard. He wants me to work for it but not to fail. It's just personal for him, and without me…"
She trailed off, whirled around. "He needs me. Jesus. Check my name. Check deeds, mortgages, leases using my name."
"There's your new angle, Lieutenant," Roarke murmured as he set to work. "Very good."
"Toss it on screen," she asked even as she moved to stand behind him and watch. As her name popped up with a list of liber and folio numbers she swore again. "How the hell did he get all that property?"
"That's not his, it's yours."
"What do you mean mine? I don't own anything."
"Properties I've transferred into your name." Roarke spoke absently as he continued the scan.
"Transferred? What the hell for?"
He skimmed a finger lightly over her wedding ring and earned a punch in the shoulder. "You're welcome."
"Take it back. All of it."
"It's complicated. Taxes. Really, you're doing me a favor. No, there's nothing here that isn't yours. We'll try a combination of names."
She wanted, badly, to seethe, but she didn't have time.
They found three listings for the name David Dallas in Manhattan.
"Get the property descriptions."
"I'm working on it. It takes a moment to hack into city hall."
Barely more than that for Roarke, Eve noted as the data flashed on screen. "No, that's downtown. Sex club. Try the next." She gripped the back of his chair, straining with impatience. "That's just out of the target area, but possible. Hold that and run the last. I'll be damned." She almost whispered it. "He reverted to type after all. That's his parents' house. He bought their place."
"Two and a half years ago," Roarke confirmed. "Using the name David Dallas. Your man was thinking ahead. Very far ahead. We'll find accounts in that name, or an account that he had and closed."
"Five blocks from here. The son of a bitch is five blocks from here." She leaned down, kissed the top of Roarke's head, and strode back into her office. "I've found it," she announced, then looked at her wrist unit. "We've got seven hours to figure out how to take him down."
She would go in alone. She insisted on it. She agreed to go in wired. Agreed to surveillance and backup at half-block intervals surrounding the house. For luck she pinned on the badge Peabody had given her, then waited with growing impatience as Feeney checked the transmitter.
"You're on," he told her. "Nothing I found on the video disc had equipment that can tag this pretty little bug. We've got a decoy so he'll think he's found one and deactivated it."
"Good thinking."
"You got to do it this way." He nodded at her. "I'd do the same. But you better understand I hear anything I don't like, I'm coming in. Roarke." He stepped back as Roarke came into the room. "I'll give you a minute here."
Roarke crossed to her, tapped a finger on her badge. "Funny, you don't look like Gary Cooper."
"Who?"
He smiled."High Noon, darling Eve, though the clock's turned around on this one. We have a date in a couple of hours."
"I remember. I've got a present coming. I can do this."
"Yes." He kissed her, softly. "I know. Give my best to Mira."
"You bet. The team's moving into place now. I have to go."
"I'll see you soon."
He waited until she was gone, then walked outside himself and climbed casually into Feeney's unit. "I'll be riding with you."
Feeney scratched his chin. " Dallas won't like it."
"That's a pity. I spent the last few hours studying the schematics for the security on the Palmer house. I can bypass it, by remote."
"Can you, now?" Feeney said mildly.
Roarke turned his head, gave Feeney a level look. "I shouldn't need more than twenty minutes clear to manage it."
Feeney pursed his lips and started down the drive. "I'll see what we can do about that."
She went in at ten. It was best, she'd decided, not to cut it too close to the deadline. The old brownstone was lovely, in perfect repair. The security cameras and sensors were discreetly worked into the trim so as not to detract from its dignity.
As she walked to the door she was certain Palmer was watching. And that he was pleased. She gave the overhead camera a brief glance, then bypassed the locks with her master.
She closed the door at her back, heard the locks snick automatically back into place. As they did, the foyer lights flashed on.
"Good evening, Dallas." Palmer's voice flowed out of the intercom. "I'm so pleased you could make it. I was just assuring Doctor Mira that you'd be here soon so we could begin our end-of-year celebration. She's fine, by the way. Now, if you'd just remove your weapon – "
"No." She said it casually as she moved forward. "I'm not stripping down for you, Dave, so you can take me out as I come down the stairs. Let's not insult each other."
He laughed. "Well, I suppose you're right. Keep it. Take it out. Engage it. It's fine. Just remember, Doctor Mira's fate is in your hands. Come join us, Lieutenant. Let's party."
She'd been in the house before, when she interviewed his parents. Even if the basic setup hadn't come back to her, she'd taken time to study the blueprints. Still, she didn't move too quickly, but scanned cautiously for booby traps on the way through the house.
She turned at the kitchen, opened the basement door. The sound of cheering blasted up at her. The lights were on bright. She could see streamers, balloons, festive decorations.
She took her weapon out and started down.
He had champagne chilling in a bucket, pretty canapes spread on silver trays on a table draped with a colorful cloth.
And he had Mira in a cage.