“Victim three,” Eve said and worked her way down.
She juggled data and theories, answered questions, reasserted time lines.
“Considering the length of time we’re dealing with,” Reo began, “it would take a miracle to access all the data. The financial records, travel, wit statements. Much less locate and interview all parties involved. Then we have to jog, and trust those memories and impressions.”
“So he keeps getting away with it, because he scatters his kills, changes his method. Nine people—maybe more—are dead because Joel Steinburger wanted them that way. Because he wanted money or sex or fame or a reputation he’d never earned. They’re dead because he wanted the easy way to the red carpet, the media spotlight, the power chamber of a glamorous industry. And he wanted all the benefits that go with it. The money again, the sex, the envy of others.”
“I don’t disagree with you, Dallas. But you’ve got pattern—a logical pattern, a convincing one. You don’t have evidence.”
“We’ll get it.”
“How close are you to getting him for K.T. Harris and/or Asner?”
“Closer than I was. Closer still when you put them together with the others—when you see the pattern. Get me a warrant to search his residence, his office, his vehicle. Get me one to confiscate and search his electronics.”
“And would you like me to get you a pony while I’m at it?” The Southern in Reo’s voice went to steel. “Where’s the cause? The judge and any decent lawyer, which believe me Steinburger will have a fleet of, will point out that many men in their sixties can be connected to nine deaths over the course of their lives. That only one of these cases was designated homicide, for which the individual charged was convicted. I can get a judge to look at this, to see what you see, what I’m damn well seeing, too. And we still won’t get a search warrant.”
“So that’s it?” Eve shot back. “You don’t even try.”
“Of course I’m going to try. Damn it. I want to put this creepy bastard away for the rest of his life. I’m telling you we’re going to get a big, fat, solid no on a search warrant.”
Eve paced away.
“I’ll talk to your boss,” Whitney told Reo, “and as many judges as it takes. If Doctor Mira will reprofile. If you have some thoughts on this, Doctor Mira.”
“Yes.” It was the first word she’d spoken since entering the room. “I have some thoughts.”
“Before that, as a backup.” Eve turned back. “What about a warrant to monitor his transmissions? An EDD trace on his ’links, his comps. Everything. He’s my primary suspect in two current murders. I can eliminate several of the others present at Harris’s death. I have a partially open dome, evidence the vic was smoking herbals laced with zoner. And a statement that can and will be verified that the suspect has a strong, even passionate aversion to smoke. The dome was closed, and the mechanism faulty. The suspect was unaware of this. When he opened it to clear the smoke, he was unable to close it completely after he killed Harris.”
“I can work with that,” Reo calculated. “I could work a trace. And we’ll work with the prosecutor on the Pearlman suicide. If your contact on that can locate the evidence, the files, we may be able to toggle back now that we have this secondary account. But if you don’t get something off the trace in short order, we’re going to have a tough time keeping it in place when he leaves New York. And the rest.”
Reo turned to the boards again. “I want to believe we can prove it, but realistically, it could take years to put it all together.”
“He’ll kill again.” Mira spoke up now. “He won’t wait years between this time. He’s killed twice in two days. It’s a new kind of power. He murdered Asner with extreme violence, the kind he’s only exhibited, that we see here, one other time. There’s a pattern there as well. His privacy was infringed. He reacted with violence, then took and we assume destroyed all that pertained to him. In this case, Asner isn’t the end of it. If Valerie was paid or compensated to give him an alibi, she’s now a new threat. He’ll need to eliminate her, and I don’t believe he’ll wait. Not years, not months. Weeks perhaps. He’ll need to finish it to feel fully in control again.”
She looked at Eve. “He’s more dangerous now, without that feeling of control. He is organized, so he’ll plan. He’s self-serving and can justify all his actions as necessary. And he is ruthless. Whatever gets in the way of his comfort, his success, his ambition must be eliminated. He’s killed for his own needs for forty years, and has become a powerful, respected, famous, wealthy man. On the one hand, killing is the same for him as it is for a paid assassin.”
“Business,” Eve said.
“Yes. And on the other, it’s intensely, intimately personal. Friends, lovers, former wives. You may find he had a sexual relationship at one time with K.T. Harris. Only twice were his kills not part of his intimate circle.”
“And those he killed with extreme violence.”
“He could let that violent nature out with them. I believe when you interview his ex-wives and any former or current lovers they’ll tell you—if they’re honest—he preferred rough sex, likely with rape role-playing. The violence is there, always. Ending lives gives him a sense of control, and at the same time, the need to end them when threatened controls him.”
“He’s going to be real unhappy when we take away his control and put him in a concrete cage. Get me a warrant,” Eve told Reo. “Whatever you can get.”
After a quick knock, Kyung stepped in. “Do you need me to wait?”
“No.” Eve angled her head. “It’s good timing. If everyone could stay a few minutes more. I’ve got a way I think we can get something on that EDD trace sooner rather than later.”
She jerked a thumb at the box on the conference table. “Have a doughnut,” she invited Kyung.
19
“YOU NEED TO SET UP ANOTHER MEDIA CONFERENCE,” Eve said to Kyung.
“I’m afraid so.” After a brief perusal, he selected a conservative glazed, broke it tidily in half. “It’s necessary.”