"Private? Private? This is Mavis we're dealing with." He shut his eyes. "God pity us." "And it's just going to get… more." She pulled away, sprang up. "Before you know it, before you know it she's going to want us to deliver the thing. They'll want to do it here, in our bedroom or something, with cameras live feed to her fans. And us pulling the thing out of her." Utter and genuine horror leaped into his eyes. "Stop it, Eve. Stop it now." "Yeah, live feed, that's Mavis to the ground. And we'll do it." She spun back to him. "We'll do it because she's just sucking us in. Sucking us in like some…" She windmilled her arms. "Like some big sucking thing. Some big pregnant sucking thing." "Let's just calm down." With the images Eve painted playing in his head, Roarke took out a cigarette. Lighting it, he ordered himself to think rationally. "Surely you've done this sort of thing before. You're a cop. You must have at least been on hand during a birthing." "Uh-uh. Nope. No. Once, when I was still on patrol, we had to take this woman into a health center. Jesus, she was screaming like somebody was ramming steel spikes into her crotch." "Merciful Jesus, Eve, could you dispense with some of the imagery?" But she was wound up now. "And something gives way in there, and stuff's pouring out of her. Fluids, you know?" "I don't, no. And I don't care to." "Made a hell of a mess in the cruiser. But at least she had the decency the common courtesy to wait until she was inside, with the doctor or midwife or whoever the hell before she pushed it out." For a moment, Roarke pressed his fingers to his temples.
"We can't think about this anymore. We'll go mad if we do.
We have to think about something else." He stabbed the cigarette out. "Entirely." She drew one long, shaky breath. "You're right. I've got work." "Murder. Much better. Let me help. I beg you." She had to laugh. "Sure. It's the least I can do. Step into my office." She took his hand, filling him in as they went inside and up.
"How much do you intend to use this Celina Sanchez?" "I'd like to keep it minimal." She sat at her desk, kicked back to prop her feet on the edge. "She's got the Dimatto seal of approval, and she's even likable enough. I'd even call her steady. But it's not a good fit for me. Still, she's cued in to this, so I can't ignore what she can give me." "I knew a man who kept a sensitive on staff and wouldn't make a decision without her. Worked well enough for him, as it happened." "You got any?" "I do. Precogs, clairvoyants, sensitives. I don't dismiss what they've been given, or what they can offer. But I prefer making my own decisions in the final run. You'll do the same." "So far, her let's call it intel isn't adding much to my basic, nonsensitive cop work. But it matches it." She frowned, mentally picking her way through the data and speculation. "Impressions we could pick up at the kill site, and the ones we got leading to the dump site indicate a size fifteen shoe. We may be able to make the tread, or at least a partial if Dickhead in the lab works some magic.
Ground and grass were dry, but when he added her weight, he left some impressions." "Well, that's a large foot you've got there, but not all men with big feet are big men." "Big enough to leave impressions on dry grass, strong enough to lift and carry a hundred and thirty pounds of deadweight.
You've got to speculate, do the probabilities. And when you do, you come up with a man between two hundred and seventy and eighty pounds. My guess would be a height of between six four and six eight." He nodded, imagined he was building a picture in his mind similar to the one in hers. "And if you take it further, you assume that kind of strength and body type comes from discipline and dedication." "Body sculpting procedures can give you the build, but they can't give you the strength."
"Hence, your foray into the world of musclemen." "Reminded me I like my guys more on the lanky side." "Lucky for me." "I can't find any connection between the two missing and presumed and my vie, other than their predilection for fussy stuff and frequenting at least some of the same outlets for supplies." "I could spare you time and look deeper there." That's what I was thinking." "You can't buy a fifteen shoe just anywhere," Roarke continued. "You'd have to special order, or use a specialty outlet. For that matter, if your man is as described, he wouldn't be able to buy anything off the rack." "Right. He'd need Enormous Guys "R" Us, or the like." "Catchy," Roarke mused. "I'll keep it in mind if I ever open a specialty retail outlet of that nature." "I'm going to do a search and locate on specialty retail outlets of that nature," she said, mimicking his accent and making him grin. "Tonight." "Well then, we should both be busy enough to keep our minds off things best not thought about. Before we go to our respective corners, tell me this: Why does he do it?" "Control. Abuse is always about control. Rape is about control, and at its core, so is murder. Even if the motive for murder is greed, jealousy, self-preservation, rage, or entertainment, it still comes down to control." "All crime comes down to it at its base, don't you think? I'll take this from you, be it your wallet or your life, because I can." "Why did you steal when you did?" A hint of a smile played around his mouth. "All manner of selfish and entertaining reasons, Lieutenant. Certainly to possess something I hadn't had, before I took it for myself.
And the pleasure of doing so successfully."
"To punish the person who possessed it first?" He inclined his head, acknowledging the point. "No. They were, in most cases, purely incidental to the goal." "There's the difference. Doesn't paint the thief white, but murder often roots in punishment. I think it does here.
Someone controlled him, punished him. A female, and now he's showing her who's boss. That's why he left her naked.
She probably wasn't naked when he raped her. Tore her clothes fibers still on her indicate but he wouldn't have bothered to strip her down. He bothered after because it added humiliation." She paused, considered. "He didn't mutilate the female part of her, which expresses another kind of rage and control.
It wasn't sexual, but it was personal. He strangles, not with his hands and odds are he could have snapped her neck like a twig but he uses the ribbon. So it means something to him. The red cord is also personal. He takes her eyes, carefully, so he can blind her. Naked and blind, more humiliation.
But he takes them so he can have that part of her.
Does she watch him? I think, somehow, he wants her to watch him. Because he's in charge now." "Endlessly fascinating," he replied.
"What?" "Watching you work." He came around the desk, lifted her chin, kissed her lightly. "And there's nothing nonsensitive about it. I'll just put together a meal before we settle in." That'd be good." While he went into the kitchen off her office, she set up a second murder board. To this one she added pictures of Marjorie Kates and Breen Merriweather.
She was standing, studying them when Roarke came back in. He set a plate on her desk. "They're yours now, too." "Yeah. I'm afraid they are." "Attractive women. Comfortably attractive rather than stunning. It'll be the hair, won't it? It's the hair that's the greatest similarity." "Build's close, too. Average build. Caucasian women around thirty with a nice average build and long light brown hair. That's a big pool for him to fish in." "Not so big when you add in the other factors." "No, that shrinks it. They have to poke around craft shops, and they have to be out, alone, sometime at night. He works them at night. Still gives him plenty to choose from." She stepped back. Td better get to it before he picks another one." When she went to her desk, she was delighted to see he'd brought out a burger and fries even though there were a few little broccoli trees alongside them. She could ditch the broccoli how would he know? But then she'd feel guilty. Since she was more ambivalent toward broccoli than guilt, she ate it first, to get it out of the way, while she started a search for retail shops that specialized in large men.