Leverage in Death (In Death 47)

“She’s too smart for that.”

“I overcome female brains with my smooth charm and sexual prowess.”

“He really does,” Trueheart agreed as he worked.

“It’s a skill.”

“Save it until we bust these bastards. Roarke’s on his way in.”

“Peabody’s stand-in.”

“While Trueheart’s doing the cross-check, give me what you got.”

Baxter huffed out a breath. “Goose egg. Nobody we interviewed fits, nobody pops.”

“If I’m not on the hook for burgers and brew, we’re back at that. But we focus on military history. The partner could have changed his name.”

“If he lives here, or comes to see Iler frequently? Rhoda.”

“And/or the night manager, the doorme

n. So you’re going to generate ID shots of the list currently on-screen.”

She checked the time. “After the consult.”

* * *

With Mira on-screen Eve ran through the data, impressions, conclusions, while Mira sat at her desk at Central sipping tea.

“The less physically adept older brother, proud and protective of his younger sibling,” Mira began. “Both of them often left in the care of staff while their parents traveled—with the father a dominant figure, one who controlled and demanded. The father did not, certainly in Iler’s mind, offer unrestricted, selfless love—and may, in fact, have been critical of, demeaning to, the more frail, unathletic older son. While the mother, in his view, cared less about tending and protecting her children than pleasing her husband, and perhaps herself.”

“It’s envy? Targeting the family-focused parents?”

“It’s certainly a motivator. The younger brother grows up, becomes the soldier, as expected. He forms new ties—new brothers, in a sense. He falls in love, another replacement. Iler, rather than building his own relationships, keeps his brother as the center. On a very real level, he sees himself not just as his brother’s keeper, but as his father figure. But he can no longer protect his brother, who dies a hero.”

“As a soldier,” Eve put in. “Because the father demanded it.”

“Yes. Iler can’t blame himself. He has no capacity for self-blame. The father should have protected the child, but caused his death instead, and lives on. The woman his brother loved, a link to his brother, moved on, chose another. Women are weak, calculating, without loyalty. He feels, as much as he’s capable of feeling, only for the child. His loyalty has transferred to his partner, his brother substitute.”

“The partner, the dominant, feeds all of this.”

“Unquestionably. Let the father prove he’d protect the child. The gamble for profit? It’s the risk that feeds both of them. Iler, physically frail as a child. I believe he would have worked hard to build himself up. He’d be a risk taker—physically—a gambler physically and financially. An addict to risk and reward.

“The partner, a soldier,” Mira continued. “Trained to accept risk and violence, to lay down his life if needed. He survived the attack, but a man he admired—or at least respected—didn’t. You’re right, he could be younger. Still the dominant either way. But he would have been Terrance Iler’s subordinate. Not just Captain Iler, but his captain.”

“Responsible for the lives of his men. Like a father’s responsible for the child.”

“Yes. He likes violence, enjoys it. Another addiction.”

As she wrapped it up, Roarke stepped in.

“Thanks for the time.”

“Keep me updated,” Mira told her. “When you have one or both of them in interview, I’ll observe.”

“I will.” She ended the consult. “Trueheart.”

“No matches, Lieutenant.”