Abandoned in Death (In Death, #54)(71)

“You have a theory.”

“I wonder if we’ll find something similar on Covino when we find her. Maybe they started banging on a door, a wall, something to try to communicate with each other. He has to have them separated, but in the same place. Nothing else makes sense.”

“A good theory.” With his protective cape over a pale gray suit with brighter, bolder needle stripes of blue, Morris studied the body.

He hadn’t braided his hair, Eve noted. Hadn’t had time—it must take a lot of time—because he’d come right in. He had it pulled back in a sleek tail instead.

“She had a meal at approximately nineteen hundred thirty. Pasta primavera, about four ounces of water, and another six of ginger ale. I don’t have the tox report as yet. I sent samples—makeup, hair, and so on—to the lab, flagged for the same techs who worked on Elder’s.”

“Appreciate it. How long ago, do you figure, he inked her, pierced her?”

“No more than five days. It’s the same precise work, as is the stitching on her throat. I would say the same thread, but the lab will tell that tale. The wound, however…”

“From behind.” Eve held up her left hand, yanked it back, sliced the right. “One hand pulling her head back for a bigger target, the other—the right—making the slice.”

“Yes, I agree with your on-site there as well. From behind, slightly above. I would say he struck quickly and, again, precisely. She didn’t have time to struggle, or, if he dosed her, may have been too passive to do so.”

“I’m going with the second choice. He doses his victims to keep them in line. If he’s going to get that close, with a weapon, he wanted her dulled up—probably put something in the food. She’s got a free hand, right, he only cuffs one. Why risk her struggling and maybe, just maybe, getting that free hand on the blade, using it on him?”

She studied Hobe. “He knew he was going to kill her, but he fed her.”

“Barely an hour between the meal and TOD,” Morris agreed.

“That’s a waste unless you consider it as a vehicle. Something to put the drug into, to keep her complacent. There’s a coward in him. He doesn’t just cuff a hand to keep them in place, he drugs them, and he cuffs an ankle. That way, he can stay out of their reach, doesn’t risk them taking a punch at him.”

“I’ll rush the tox through for you. Otherwise, I can tell you she was healthy, no signs of alcohol or illegals abuse. She bit her nails.”

“She what?”

“She’d—recently, since her abduction—bitten her nails below the quick.”

Morris lifted one of Anna’s hands, showed Eve the nail of the index finger. “I removed one of the replacement nails he’d applied and painted—sent it to the lab as well.”

“I missed that on scene.”

“It’s precisely and perfectly done. I imagine an expert could have done no better.”

“He couldn’t know she’d bite her nails, and he wanted to paint them, have them look good.” Eve felt a crack open in the wall she felt she’d been pushing against.

“He had to buy the replacements within the last week, more likely the last couple days. We can work with that.” She looked at Peabody. “We can work with that.”

Because as Eve said, work was work, Peabody approached the body, studied the hand. “The other nine are perfect, and look completely natural. Trina does this kind of service in her salon. To get that kind of precision, I’m betting he had to use salon grade. Not the sort of fakes you can pick up in a drugstore. I’ve used those before and they never look that good.”

Eve had already grabbed microgoggles for a closer exam.

“Not just good. Perfect, like you said, Morris.

“That’s a mistake,” she said as she straightened. “That’s a big mistake. He needed perfect, and she bit her nails.”

“I’ll remove the others as well, but you can see from this one, he smoothed where she’d bitten, then roughed up the nail bed.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to do that to get a good adhesion,” Peabody said. “Then, at least for the cheaper ones, the do-it-yourself kind, you paint on the glue, fit the nail on. You have to give the glue time to set, then you shape it the way you want before you add color.”

“Okay, good, let’s give this a hard shove at the lab. This is a break, Morris. Thanks for coming in to take her. Her parents will contact you. They’re divorced, but they’re both coming to New York.”

“I’ll have her ready for them to say their goodbyes. Thanks for breakfast.”

“You more than earned it. Peabody, with me.”

Hustling to keep up, Peabody sent Morris a wave. “The salon grade are a serious sting.”

“They hurt?”

“The wallet,” Peabody explained. “What I’m saying is the drugstore brand would’ve done the job. I mean, it’s not like she was going to mess them up, right?”

“Looking for perfect, willing to pay for it. Add he might have thought we’d miss them. I didn’t spot them on scene. Less expensive makeup, hair stuff? I’m going with it’s the sort of thing his mother used. Probability is Mommy didn’t bite her nails and buy fakes to cover it.”