eciate you making it for me.”
“Never a problem. This young man thought to rob a store in the Diamond District, using the homemade boomer in his pocket as incentive.”
Since she’d seen the case on the board in the bullpen—Carmichael and Santiago had caught it—she moved closer. And observed the large, jagged chunk missing from the DB’s right side.
“Went off in his pocket.”
“That it did. Fortunately for the bystanders, it wasn’t very powerful. Unfortunately for our guest here, it was powerful enough to blow a hole in him. There now, all done.”
He stepped back, blinked. “Well, look at you.”
“What?” Thrown off, Eve glanced down at herself.
“You look gorgeous.”
She’d have been less shocked if he’d stabbed her with his scalpel. “I— What?”
“Like a perfect spring day,” he added as he walked over to clean his hands. “I calls ’em as I sees ’em.”
“Huh.” Weird, she thought, but … “Thanks.”
“I suspect you simply wanted another look at Elise Duran, as I can’t add anything of value to my report.”
He walked to the wall of drawers, opened one. The cool fog puffed out.
“A woman who took care of herself until her death. Good muscle tone, lovely skin. COD, the same as our first victim. Unlike our first, I see no sign she knew what was happening, attempted to get to a window or door for air, for help. She dropped where she stood. Death came quickly, but painfully.”
“Has the family been to see her?”
“The husband. He’s arranged to have her taken to a funeral home tomorrow. The family will hold a private memorial before cremation, then they’ll have an open one for friends and extended family in a few days.”
Morris touched a hand, briefly, gently, to the top of Elise’s head. “Her husband sat with her for some time, asked if he could just sit with her. And so he did, and talked to her, assuring her he’d take good care of their boys. He’d look out for her parents, and so on.”
Morris sighed. “There are times, no matter how many you open and close, there are times it breaks the heart.”
“Yeah. That’s what he wants. Broken hearts, broken lives. He’s already forgotten her. Duran, too. That’s done, crossed off the list like a chore. Next? Fucker’s not going to get a next.”
Morris narrowed his eyes on Eve’s face. “You know who it is.”
“Yeah. I looked him in the eye today. You know what I saw in there, Morris?”
“What?”
“Not a damn thing. Behind the pretext they put on to mix with humanity, this kind is dead inside. She has more life in her than he does. It’s not even real revenge, not the kind you’d get bloody for. It’s more … It’s a fuck-you,” she realized. “Somebody cuts you off in traffic, you give them the finger, move on. Not this guy. Cut him off, he’ll run you over. That’s his fuck-you.”
Eve stepped back. “Yeah, I guess I just needed to see her again. Thanks for that.”
“Anything I can do that helps you take him down.”
Eve had barely gotten back in her car when Peabody tagged her ’link. She took it on the dash, headed toward home. “Dallas.”
“Wanted to update you asap,” Peabody began. “Good call, damn good call about the oops with Cosner Senior. He hadn’t gotten wind of our earlier visit. I say that with certainty because this took him by surprise. I know the angry to disappointed to exhausted dad look, and he ran the gamut while trying not to show it.”
“How much did you tell him?”
“Here’s the thing, after he got that the NYPSD had interviewed his son once, and wanted a follow-up, he stepped into his lawyer shoes. As his son’s legal counsel, he demanded to know, etc. I kept it close, but gave him enough to worry him. Added that we’d have the PA’s office there. He wants to speak to the prosecutor, made it clear he’d speak for his son, questions to be addressed to legal counsel, and all that. Ten tomorrow.”
“Good work, Peabody.”