Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(27)

More small talk, Eve thought, resigned, and focused on her steak.

“Do you eat out here often in the good weather?” Mira wondered.

“My office, usually.”

“Working dinners.” Mira reached over to pat Dennis’s hand. “We often do the same. If not my work, Dennis’s, or both.”

“We live the lives we live.” Dennis just smiled at her.

“We do and, so, I agree with your conclusions, Eve, that the second girl—Dorian Gregg—did not kill Mina Cabot. Morris’s report, the forensics all lead to those conclusions. Although the evidence isn’t conclusive, and we may find Dorian was and is a willing participant, my profile of her says differently.”

“Why? Here’s where I get hung up on that,” Eve continued before Mira answered. “Even though I lean, and lean hard, away from her willing participation. She came from a crappy apartment in a crappy building in a crappy neighborhood. She has a history of petty theft. Her mother was abusive, and Jesus, her caseworker ranks even worse for me.”

“Yes, and we’ll discuss that and her.”

“So they snatched her, yeah, off the streets most likely. But once she’s in it? French manicures, pretty underwear, good food—and I bet decent living conditions. All she has to do is go along, pay for it by doing some porn—if we’re right on that. Pose for some pictures, maybe end up in some fancy house somewhere.”

Eve shrugged a shoulder. “She’s a kid, what does she know about it? It might look and feel pretty damn good after what she got away from.”

“She had no choice with her mother—and the caseworker failed her, the system gave her no choice. Why would she accept, even with the questionable advantages, having no choice again?”

Mira paused. “And I believe she knows all too much about it, more than a child that age should in a perfect world. More, I’d imagine, than Mina did when she was taken.”

“It had to be a lot riskier to abduct someone like Mina than Dorian. And that tells me they’re not the first, the only.”

“I agree. It all strikes as very organized and sophisticated. The outlay to keep young girls—to feed them, and well, to house them in a way to prevent discovery or escape, the clothing, all the rest. It would be considerable.”

“So the profits have to make it worth the outlay. The porn trade, you can make some serious money—but not enough for this. It has to be trafficking.”

“I agree again. If you consider these girls a product for profit?” Mira shifted to Roarke. “As a businessman, you’d have to invest—time, effort, money—into creating that product.”

“Of course. You’d also create a budget for that investment based on profit projections, otherwise your outlay may—likely will—eat into those profits, even erase them.”

“What if you have a lot of the same product—kind of product?” Eve wondered. “Like a vehicle. A car. You can have different paint jobs, accessories, and all that. They’re all basically the same—built the same, but you can customize them, right? Same basic budget, but you factor in the cost—and profit—on the fancier add-ons. Right?”

Studying her, Roarke sat back with his wine. “You’re meaning a sort of assembly-line operation. A car—a girl. Same basic make. Young, female, human. But your victim was white, the second girl mixed race. Choices for the … consumer.”

“I’m thinking maybe it doesn’t cost twice as much to feed and clothe and house two girls instead of one. Or ten times as much for ten. You’ve already got the housing, so that doesn’t change. Food spreads out. I guess clothes multiply per cost per kid, but—”

“Not necessarily,” Dennis put in. “We sponsor some sports teams, right, Charlie? Grandchildren,” he added with that sweet smile. “If you order two dozen jerseys, they cost less per item than if you order one, or six, for instance.”

“A quart of paint costs more per volume than a gallon,” Roarke said.

“More product, more profit?”

“In theory. But these are children, not cars or widgets.”

“I’m aware,” Eve responded in the same flat tone. “I’m trying to get a handle on a possible business plan.”

“And the human element must be factored in,” Roarke countered. “They’re abducted, so not willing participants. They may not eat what they’re told when they’re told.”

“Take food away for a day or two and most children will eat what you provide.”

Roarke nodded at Mira. “True enough,” he said, as he’d known hunger as a child.

“With the victim,” Mira continued, “they had months to control her, to indoctrinate her. Evidence indicates she was killed during an attempted escape, so indoctrination failed. But as there were no indications of restraints or physical punishments, I conclude she was controlled—or careful enough to allow her captors to believe her controlled.”

She held up a hand as Roarke poured more wine into her glass. “Just half, thanks. Now, as to the second girl. Dorian. She may have betrayed Mina, helped stop the escape.”

“Narc on another kid,” Eve added, as she’d thought of it. “Get a reward.”

“Yes. However, Dorian’s personal experience leads toward a distrust of authority, and one very unlikely to report on another child. My opinion is they worked together. While Dorian may have enjoyed the attention, the food, the nicer materials, and so on, freedom is a driving force with her personality. Distrust of authority, and freedom.”