"What time does it close?" "Two, earlier if it's slow." "Okay. Thanks. Peabody?" "Some blood. Some of the grass is ripped up, some's tamped down. Got a couple of small scraps of cloth. Might be from an article of clothing." "I can see all that, Peabody. What do you see?" "Well, I think he took her just inside the south entrance as she'd started in to cut across the park. Could've grabbed her outside, but more likely she cut in. He took her down here, assaulted, overpowered, tore some of her clothes in the struggle, though there's no indication she put up much of a fight. Raped her here. I haven't examined the body, but it looks like maybe she dug her fingers into the grass. As it appears to be the same MO as Maplewood, he would have strangled her at this point, taken her clothes, then carried her to the other location where he could pose her and remove her eyes." "Yeah, that's what I see. Inside, though. She cut through, shortcut home. Patrols go by here regularly. Park stays pretty clean. Safe. He'd have to work fast, but that's no problem for him. He's got the routine knocked now. Time of death was oh two hundred, almost on the dot. First arrived two hundred twenty minutes. You factor in the time it took him to undress her, carry her, pose her, mutilate her, he cut it close this time." "He could've still been in the park when they arrived." Eve glanced back at Roarke, lifted her eyebrows.
"He could have heard them. Car pulls up, doors slam. He moves off, out of the lights, behind any number of trees.
Wouldn't he, if he could, enjoy watching her be discovered?" "Yeah. Yeah, he would." "He'd only just finished with her. And wouldn't he need a moment to pat himself on the back for the fine job he'd done?" Unable to help himself, Roarke glanced back to where Lily Napier lay on the bench. "He hears someone coming, and nips back. He'd kill them if he had to, that would be his thinking. But how gratifying it must have been to see cops find her, so quickly, so fresh, with him able to see. Then he's out, the opposite direction, with a nice bonus to his evening." As she'd speculated along the exact same lines herself, she nodded. "You're getting good at this. I want a thorough sweep of the entire park, every blade of grass, every flower petal, every tree." "He seals up, Lieutenant," Peabody reminded her. "We don't have his DNA, his blood type, his hair, nothing to match if they could find anything in an area this size." "He seals up." Eve held out a hand, turned it over so the smears of blood shone in the light. The, too. We're not looking for his DNA. We're looking for hers." Again, she stepped back, but this time she gestured to Roarke. "Let's take a little walk." "You're hoping to be able to see his direction. Where he moved, how he moved." "Anything that adds a line to his picture's good." She needed to get away from cop eyes, from cop ears, and kept going until they were out of the park again, on the sidewalk. "I think, geographically, he's closer to home here than he was with Maplewood. But it doesn't matter to him. He'll go where he needs to go." "And you didn't come all the way out here to tell me that." "No. Look, there's no point in you waiting. We're going to be at this awhile, then I've got to go into Central." "Deja vu." "Yeah. This guy likes night work." "You haven't had more than an hour's sleep." "I'll catch some in my office." She started to wipe her hand absently on her trousers, but he caught her wrist.
"Hold on." He opened her field kit, took out a rag.
"Right." Cleaning the blood off her hands, she stared back through the stone arch. The park was brilliant with light now.
The sweepers, in their protective suits, moved through it like silent images on a screen. The media would pounce soon hey always did and would have to be dealt with.
Before much longer, lights would go on in the windows of surrounding buildings. Some would glance out, see and wonder. Then civilians would have to be dealt with.
She was going to shut down the park. So the mayor would have to be dealt with.
The fun never quit.
"What's on your mind, Lieutenant?" "Too many things, and I've got to start lining them up. I'm going to be calling Celina into Central, get a detailed report of her… vision. I'm going to have a couple of soft-clothes cops escort her in. Eight hundred." She stuck her hands in her pockets, pulled them out again when she remembered she'd wiped off the blood but hadn't cleaned off the sealant. "Here's the thing." When she said nothing else, only continued to stare into the park, Roarke cocked his head. "And that thing would be?" "She said she was home in bed when she contacted me.
I'd just like to verify that, that's all. Just like to nail that down." "You don't believe her?" "I don't not believe her. I just want to verify, so it's off my mind. So I don't find myself wondering. That's all." "And if someone could… gain access to her bedroom when she was elsewhere, check her "link, you wouldn't find yourself wondering." "Yes." She looked at him then. "And I can't believe I'm standing here asking you to commit a crime. I know if she was home in bed when she contacted me, she couldn't have been here when the murder took place not when she called minutes after Napier's death. I could request a check of her "link, send an e-man to her place with her permission, but-" "It seems rude." She rolled her eyes. "I don't give a rat's ass about seeming rude, but I do about making an ass of myself. I do about potentially alienating a valuable source." "Eight o'clock then." She was torn between relief and worry. "Listen, I'll contact you when she comes in. Just to make sure it's clear. If you get caught-" "Darling Eve." There was a deliberate wealth of patience in his tone. "I love you more than life itself, and have, I believe, demonstrated that regularly throughout our relationship.
So I can't understand why you persist in insulting me." The neither. Just in and out. Just the "link. Don't go poking around. If it checks out, don't contact me. If it doesn't, tag me on my personal." "Shouldn't we have code words?" She sent him a withering look as he grinned at her. "Yeah.
Bite me." Laughing, he jerked her forward and did just that, giving her a quick nip on the chin before brushing his lips over hers. "I'll find my own way home. Get a little sleep." Eve turned back toward the arch, back toward death, and didn't see how she could.
Notifying next of kin was always hideous, but it was worse, somehow worse, when it had to be done in the middle of the night. She depressed the buzzer on an apartment on the Lower West Side and prepared to take a slice out of someone's world.
There was a wait, long enough she was preparing to ring again when the intercom blinked on.
"Yes? What is it?" "Police." Eve held up her badge, stood with it in view of the peep. "We need to speak with Carleen Steeple." "It's four in the fricking morning. What's this about?" "Sir, we need to come inside." The intercom clicked off, followed by an irritated rattle of chains and locks. The man who opened the door wore nothing but a pair of loose cotton pants and an annoyed expression.
"What's this about? Some of us are trying to sleep, and I don't want you waking up the kids." "We're sorry to disturb you, Mr Steeple." The brother-in-law, Eve thought, according to the data. "I'm Lieutenant Dallas. This is Detective Peabody. We need to speak to your wife." "Andy?" A woman with short, curly, sleep-ruffled hair poked her face out of a doorway. "What's going on?" "Cops. Look, we reported the illegals deals we saw, and the junkies roaming around in the broad fricking daylight.
We did our civic duty, and don't appreciate getting hassled in the middle of the night." "We're not with Illegals, Mr Steeple. Carleen Steeple?" The woman eased out, tugging at the belt of a robe. "Yes." "Your sister is Lily Napier?" "Yes." There was a flicker over her face. That first dawning of fear. "Is something wrong?" "I'm sorry to inform you, your sister's dead." "No." She said it quietly, the single sound on the verge of a question.