Golden in Death (In Death 50)

She turned to him as they walked into her office. “What would you do if you were a sociopathic bad guy and had the formula for a chemical weapon that can kill in a kind of pinpoint way, in minutes, before it dissipates?”

“Sell it. If I wasn’t a complete berk as well as a sociopathic bad guy, I’d wait several months first. A year, maybe two.”

“He won’t wait a year or two, but he’ll wait awhile. I’m betting he’s already doing some due diligence on where to sell for the best return.”

She went straight for coffee.

“You won’t give him the opportunity. Let me see what I can find out.”

He stopped by her board. “Will you update this tonight?”

“It’s routine for a reason.”

“He had everything going for him,” Roarke said as he studied Marshall Cosner’s ID. “Wealth, privilege, education, opportunities. All wasted.”

“Now he’s in the morgue.” She sat at her command center, got to work.

She touched base with Junta, with Reo, wrote up her report, then yes, updated her board. As she finished, Roarke came back.

“The Whitt Group had a major client seminar, dinner, with entertainment following tonight at the New York Grand Hotel. Whitt was a featured speaker.”

“Where is it? What time did he speak?”

“He was the dinner speaker, scheduled for eight. As for where, let’s do this.”

He leaned over her, did a few keystrokes to bring a map of New York onto the wall screen. “Here’s the Grand.” He highlighted it. “And the warehouse.”

“Too far to walk, not enough time for that. Or to run even if you were a speedy naked marathoner.”

“A what?”

“Later,” she said. “He had to have transpo.”

“Agreed. Even with that it would take several minutes.”

“Wouldn’t get a cab.” She got up to pace. “Wouldn’t risk that, certainly wouldn’t risk the subway. He’d have his own—not a driver because that adds another person in. Does the Grand have parking?”

“It does, but valet only.”

“That won’t work. So he needs to park somewhere close, where he can get out then back in easy, fast. What’ve we got within a block?”

More keystrokes. “You’d have the Hubble Hotel, which has an accessible parking garage, a block away. The next closest parking would be three blocks more.”

“We need the security cams for both hotels.”

He turned to her. Fired up, yes, he thought, but running on fumes nonetheless.

“And I imagine there are cops capable of doing that who are actually on duty at near to two in the morning. You need to get some sleep.”

“I don’t…” She realized she was revved by the movement in the case, and that it wouldn’t last. She needed to be sharp to go up against Whitt in the morning. “You’re right. He’s not going anywhere, the rest of the targets are secure, and Junta’s team will find the package. I’ll get someone to handle the hotels.”

Roarke brushed a hand over her hair. “Well now, that was easy.”

“Because it’s either some rack time or I have to take a booster before I take Whitt down. I hate those things.”

She made the arrangements, then tried to turn her brain off as they walked to the bedroom.

“I wonder who he’d targeted next?” she said as she undressed.