10
She went straight to Mira’s office, prepared to battle the dragon at the gates to get ten minutes inside. When Mira’s tight-assed admin held up a finger, Eve bared her teeth, ready to attack.
“Give me a moment to let her know you’re here. She has another consult in fifteen minutes, so you’ll have to make it quick.”
Surprised, and just a little disappointed they wouldn’t go a round, Eve shifted back off the balls of her feet. “I can make it quick.”
“Doctor?” the admin said after tapping her earpiece. “Lieutenant Dallas is here. Yes, of course. Go right in,” she told Eve.
“Okay.” Eve stepped to the door, glanced over. “Why?”
“Because my instructions are, for the duration of your current investigation, to admit you unless the doctor is in session or in a consult.”
“Okay,” Eve said again, and opened the door to Mira’s domain.
Tasteful, as Mira was, tidy and somehow female. The blue scoop chairs offered color and comfort, a few family photographs the personal. Though the window was – always – privacy screened, the winter sun trickled in light. More light beamed from some sort of fancy lamp over an array of flowering plants spilling from stone-gray pots along the windowsill.
“That’s new,” Eve commented.
“Yes. My daughter’s Christmas gift. She made the pots, started the plants from cuttings.”
“She make the light, too?”
“Actually, my son-in-law did. They’re a clever pair. Tea? I’d guess you’ve had more than enough coffee already today.”
“There is no more than enough, and your admin warned me to be quick.”
“I have fifteen minutes, so we’ll have tea. Sit down.”
“I’m too revved. I think there may be a pattern – chronological.”
Mira nodded as she walked over – cherry-red heels today with a winter-white suit and a triple chain of tiny red stones.
How did anyone think in the morning about matching a necklace with their shoes? How did anyone have a necklace that matched their shoes? Did they buy the shoes first or the necklace, or was it just random?
She could ask, Eve considered, but the answer would probably baffle her as much as the question.
“Your last meeting with Ledo came after your first with Bastwick,” Mira began. “But then Bastwick’s attempts to discredit you in the media, with the Barrow appeal, were more recent. Still…” Mira programmed tea for both, handed Eve the delicate cup and saucer, took one of the scoop chairs. “Ledo would have been the easier kill.”
“The way he was done could’ve been done almost any night.” Uneasy with the china, Eve gave up and sat. “Bastwick required more planning, closer timing. So why not take Ledo first? But she just mouthed off – he dinged me. So that’s a possible escalation.”
“True.”
“And it’s not enough of a pattern either way. I know it. I’m reaching. Logically, Ledo should have been the first – easier, kill first – but it may be he needed or wanted to take Bastwick over the holiday week. Lighter work schedule for her. Maybe for him.
“I can’t figure it,” Eve admitted. “The killer thinks he’s in my head, but he’s not. He’s in his own. I have to get there.”
Mira sipped tea, crossed her pretty legs. They might have been discussing the weather – or how to match shoes with jewelry. “What does he want?”
“He wants to kill – that’s the core.”
“Yes. Killings this carefully planned and executed, for no known material gain or defense of self-interest, indicate desire.”
“He tells himself it’s for me – to please me, to… avenge me in a way I can’t do myself because of the rules I have to follow. He’s telling me he doesn’t have those rules, or is willing to break them. So he’s able to do what I can’t – to balance the scales with people he perceives have offended me and the badge, and who he believes circumvent or break the law.
“But those are excuses. People make up all kinds of bullshit excuses to kill.”
“They do, yes, but he believes. His messages are a kind of manifesto, a letter of intent. So, for him, they’re reasons, not excuses. Unselfish ones. Even righteous ones. Victim one worked to defend those accused of crimes, and certainly some who were guilty of those crimes. Victim two regularly and consistently broke the law.”
“That could be another pattern. Defending the accused with Bastwick, committing nonviolent crimes with Ledo. The next target could be someone who committed a violent crime. Someone I didn’t take down, or who’s been released since. Someone who didn’t go down for the full shot, did a deal.”
“Your instinct is to identify the next target, protect that person. But Eve, there’s no way of knowing. Age, race, gender, social status, employment. None of these things apply, none matter to this person.”
“I’ve got to work it because he’s not going to wait. It’s going so well for him. And now I’ve paid attention publicly.”
“Yes, I watched. You refused to confirm the messages had been addressed to you.”
“I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.”
“And by refusing to acknowledge or confirm that data, you kept the focus – as much as you were able – on the victims and the crimes. But he wants that confirmation, your acknowledgment not only of what he’s done, but of the feelings he wrote to you. He craves a signal from you he can interpret as approval. Which you can’t give, or it tells him he’s doing what he wants to believe he’s doing.”
“He’s not going to get it, and for as long as I can hold back the information, I will.”
Mira nodded, sipped. “You also made it clear you’d do your job.”
“And I will. Wouldn’t he expect that of me? If I didn’t, wouldn’t that knock a few inches off my pedestal?”