“Average?” Toya posed it like a question. “I’m sorry. That’s pathetic, but I didn’t pay attention. I just wanted him to move away.”
“Okay. If any more details come to you, I want you to contact me.”
“Why is this important?” Gray asked.
Eve turned her head, gave Gemma a cool stare. Gemma just shrugged.
“You can send me out, but I know where to go to listen. Plus, I’ll get it out of Toya. I have ways of making her talk. She’s my sister,” Gemma added, reminding Eve of Tish DeSilva. “We look out for each other.”
“We believe the man responsible for the attack on the Strazzas, and two previous attacks, attended that gala. We’ve been able to discern a certain pattern to this individual’s selection of targets. The two of you fit that pattern.”
“How?” Gray spoke more steadily than she’d expected. He slid an arm around his sister, took his wife’s hand, but spoke steadily. “We need to know.”
“Wealthy married couples who live alone in single-family residences. No children. Good security that is, nonetheless, compromised. In each case, the wife has been particularly attractive. Beautiful, striking. You fit on every point.
“You should know,” Eve continued, “we’ve spoken with several others who fit this pattern, and have several more to speak to. However, to this point you’re the only ones who knew one of the other victims personally, and use the two vendors we discussed. And the only one who’s mentioned, when asked, any sort of incident or uncomfortable situation at this event.”
“What should we do?” Toya managed.
“I’m staying.” Gemma said it fiercely. “Live alone, no kids, I can cross off two of those, so I’m staying. You can’t make me go.”
“Oh, yes, I can,” her brother corrected.
“If you make me go I’ll find a way to get back. I will!”
He poked her between the eyes. “I’ll hire security. Private security. We’ll have professional security in the house, around the clock, until you find this maniac. I’ll arrange that right away.”
“That’s a good precaution. If you go out, don’t leave the house unattended. He may do test runs—may enter the empty house to get a feel for it. Let the security you hire make themselves known. They shouldn’t be subtle about it. Sorry.”
Eve pulled out her signaling communicator. “Dallas, text only,” she ordered.
Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, see the officer at 122 Morton. Reported double homicide. Male and female, possibly connected to current investigation.
“Acknowledged.” Eve got to her feet. “You’ve been helpful. If you remember anything else, or if you see or hear or even feel something that concerns you, contact me. Peabody, give them a couple cards. If she talks you into letting her stay here?” Eve gave Gemma a glance.
“I am staying.”
“Okay. Don’t be subtle about that, either. He’s a coward, he attacks from behind. He’s not going to want to try for you when you’ve got a teenager and a security guard in the house.”
When they stepped outside, Peabody glanced back. “We’ve got another.”
“We’ve got another.”
Peabody gave the house a last glance before trudging to the car. “I think they’re going to be okay. They’re forewarned, they’ll take precautions.”
And, Eve thought, there are two dead who weren’t forewarned, hadn’t had the chance to take precautions.
15
Eve pulled up to the pretty brownstone, double-parked, then engaged her On Duty light.
“They’re on the list,” Peabody said. “Ours. We were circling back this way, would have hit them after one more stop.”
“I know it.” Eve shoved out, strode through the slush, kicked through a mound of piled snow to get field kits from the back.
She asked herself a dozen times on the drive downtown: If she’d opted to go crosstown, hit the West Side first, would it have made any difference?
No point in asking, she told herself as they moved across the slippery sidewalk.
“Front steps are clear,” she noted. “Let’s find out if the occupants handled that or hired it out. The snow didn’t stop until close to midnight.”
She studied the security cam over the door—off—then the locks. “No palm pad. This is a voice recognition system. Two locks, good ones, and a swipe. Get EDD down here to go over this. Record on.”
Before she could press the buzzer, a beat droid opened the door.
“Identification, please,” he said.
Eve held up her badge so the droid, broad shoulders, nonthreatening face, could scan.
“Lieutenant, Detective.” The droid stepped back to admit them.
“Report.”
“Sir. My partner and I received instructions from Dispatch at thirteen-twenty-four to see the woman at this address. Nina Washington, identified as the housekeeper for this residence, contacted nine-one-one from this location at thirteen-twenty-three and reported two bodies she discovered in what appears to be the master bedroom on the second floor. We arrived on scene at thirteen-twenty-seven and verified this information. The deceased—one male, one female—have been unofficially identified by Nina Washington as Xavier and Miko Carver, of this address.”