Brotherhood in Death (In Death #42)(99)

The box popped out from the wall so she could lift it out, take it to a table. She slid back the lid.

“Oh my,” Reo murmured. “That’s a whole bunch of paper money.”

“It’s going to be a whole bunch of unreported-to-the-tax-guys paper money.”

“How much do you think?”

“About half a mil, ballpark.”

“That’s a very green ballpark. We’re going to need a bag.”

“Yeah, we’ll get one.” Eve lifted out stacks of hundreds, and found the collection of small, sealed bags.

“Are those—they’re locks of hair.”

“Yeah.” Eve’s stomach knotted. “Souvenirs. They’re going to be DNA matches for women he—most likely they—raped.”

“Christ have mercy, Dallas, there are dozens. They have names.”

Eve did a quick count. “Forty-nine. Forty-nine souvenirs. A lot of fuckers can’t resist taking a souvenir. And here’s one marked Charity, there are a couple of Lydias, but only one Charity, only one Carlee spelled the way MacKensie does. First names only, but it’s going to help.”

Frowning, she uncovered a large disc in a clear plastic case.

“Look at the size of that. I’ve never seen one that big.”

Eve turned it under the lights. “I’m guessing it’s old. Maybe as much as forty-nine years old. Handwritten title.”

She turned it over for Reo to read.

“‘The Brotherhood: Year One.’”

“Get that bag, will you, Reo?”

“All right.”

When Reo stepped out, closed the door again, Eve tagged Roarke.

“I’m sorry, I know you’ve got stuff.”

“The amount of which is easing up for the day. What is it?”

“I could use some help. See this?” She held up the disc so it would show on his ’link screen.

“Ah, an antique.”

“Yeah, out of Betz’s bank box in the Bronx.”

“Say that five times fast.” But Roarke didn’t smile, just kept his eyes on hers.

Did it show? she wondered. Did the sickness she felt inside show on her face?

For him it would, she thought. He’d see it.

“Listen, I—”

“Do you need me to come?”

“No, no. I— Can you jury-rig something to play this thing?”

“I can, of course. Are you going home?”

“I’ve got a couple of stops to make, then, yeah. I think I know what’s on here, and . . . I’d rather be home when I view it than asking Feeney.”

“I can be home in about ninety minutes. Sooner if you need me sooner.”

“Ninety’s great. Thanks. I’m with Reo, and I’ve got a couple things. I’ll fill you in when I see you.”

“You take care of my cop, body and soul.”

“Trying to. See you in ninety.”

She clicked off and stood staring down at the little sealed bags with the locks of hair. Stood staring and fighting off waves of revulsion.





18


“I’m not going back downtown,” Eve told Reo.

“Just take me as far as you’re going, and I’ll get a cab.” Reo made quick notes as they sped away from the bank. “Forty-nine, Dallas. Do they all have souvenirs?”

“Can’t say. Not yet.”

“I need to see what’s on that old disc.”

“When I get it transferred, I’ll send it to you. Reo, I’m taking it home, the money, too. I’ll count it on record, seal and log. But I’m not getting it into Evidence until tomorrow. Most likely tomorrow morning.”

After finishing her notes, Reo tucked her PPC away. “Dallas, not only am I not worried about you preserving the chain of evidence, that fortress you live in is at least as secure as Central.”

“Great, but I’m going to ask you to get the hair to the lab. To Harvo. That can’t wait. We need to start IDing these women.”

“I can do that. I’ll take care of that. Are you okay?”

“Forty-nine. You always think you just can’t be surprised anymore by what people do to each other. Then you are.”

“If they started that long ago, the first victim is in her sixties, most likely her late sixties. Nearly fifty years. The statute of limitations . . . She’s put it behind her. Or I hope she has.”

She’d have put it behind her, Eve thought, but it was always behind you. In a corner, in the dark. Squatting there behind you and chuckling in its throat.

“I’m trying Easterday first. With what we found, I might shake more out of him.” Eve set her teeth. “I’ll use his wife if I have to. Then I need to speak to Mr. Mira before I go home and work on this.”

“I can catch a cab from there. Do you want me to go in with you, press some prosecutor buttons before I drop the samples with Harvo?”

Eve considered. “Yeah, why not?”

She double-parked again, just didn’t give a shit, and went straight to the door.

The same woman opened it. “It’s Lieutenant . . . Dallas, correct?”

“That’s right, and APA Reo. We need to speak with Mr. Easterday.”