Betrayal in Death (In Death #12)(34)

Confusion and disappointment drenched his eyes. He continued to hold the necklace up as he looked at the photograph. "Yes, this is Mr. John Smith."

"John Smith?"

"Yes, Mr. Smith, he is a hobby -- has a hobby," he corrected. "To make the wearable art. But he buys no stones that we suggest. Only the silver wire. Two feet in length. Very specific."

"How often does he buy his wire?"

"Oh, he comes in two of the times. First it was cold outside. Before the Christmastime. Then in the last week, he comes again. But he does not have this hair on his head. I welcome him back to our store and ask if he would like now to look at stones or glass, but again he wants only the silver."

"And he pays in cash?"

"Yes, both of the times in cash money."

"How do you know his name?"

"I ask him name. Please to give me your name, sir, and will you tell me how you have heard of our humble establishment."

"What was his answer?"

"He is John Smith and he has seen our business page on the Internet. Is this helpful to you, Mrs. Lieutenant Dallas Roarke?"

"Just Lieutenant, and yes, it's helpful. What else can you tell me about him? Did he talk about his hobby?"

"He did not care to talk. He did not..." He closed his eyes, searching for a word. "Linger," he said, beaming. "I say to my young brother that I do not see how Mr. Smith can have success with his hobby as he does not have interest in stones or glass or other metals. He does not look at the many designs we have on display. He does not wish to speak about his work. He is instead... very strict business ways. Business... like. That is correct?"

"Yeah."

"He is polite. Once the 'link in his pocket rings, but he does not answer while he is doing business. I ask if the wire he purchased in the winter worked well for him, if he was satisfied. He tells me only that it did the job. Then he smiles, and I hope he is not your friend, because I do not like his smile at that time. I sell him the wire and am glad he leaves. I have offended you."

"No. You interest me. Peabody, do we have a card?"

"Yes, sir." Peabody rooted one of Eve's cards out of her own pocket.

"I'd appreciate you contacting me if he comes in again. I don't want you to alert or alarm him in any way, or tell him anyone's asked about him. If he comes in, you or your brother should go into the back, away from him, and contact me."

The clerk nodded. "He is a bad man?"

"A very bad man."

"This is my thinking when he smiles. I tell my cousin of it, and he agrees."

Eve shot a look at the young man still wielding the camera. "I thought he was your brother."

"My cousin in London where we have another humble shop. He is agreeing with me when we discover that Mr. John Smith has purchased silver from him also."

"In London?" Eve laid a hand on his wrist. "How does your cousin know it's the same man?"

"Silver wire, three lengths of two feet. But Mr. Smith has hair on his head there the color of sand. And hair also on his lip, but we think it is the same man."

Eve pulled out her memo book. "Give me the name and address of the shop in London. Your cousin's name." She noted it down. "Do you have any other humble shops?"

"We have ten humble shops."

"I'm going to ask you to do me a favor."

His eyes lit up like jewels. "This would be my very great honor."

"I'll want the locations of all of your shops. I'd appreciate it if you would contact your relatives in each and ask if there have been other purchases of silver wire in two-foot lengths. I'm going to send each shop a picture of this man. I want to be contacted if he should go into any of the shops."

"This I can arrange for you, Mrs. Lieutenant Dallas Roarke." He turned to his brother, had a brief exchange. "My brother will get this information for you, and I will personally call my cousins."

"Tell them either I or my aide will contact them."

"They will stand beside themselves with pleasure at this." He took the disc his brother brought out, handed it to Eve with some ceremony. "Will you please also take our business card for your famous husband? Perhaps he will consider visiting our humble establishment."

"Sure. Thanks for the help."

He walked her to the door, opened it for her, bowed her out, watched her, with eyes shining with delight, cross the sidewalk to her car.

"Tag Feeney," Eve ordered when she was behind the wheel. "Have him run like crimes in and around London."

"It would be my honor, Mrs. Lieutenant Dallas Roarke." At Eve's burning look, Peabody only grinned. "Sorry. I just had to do it once. I'm over it."

"If we've finished laughing uproariously, tell Feeney if no like crimes pop to take a hard look at missing persons. I don't think all the bodies have turned up. He does the job," she said half to herself as Peabody called into EDD. "If his client wants someone to disappear, permanently, he disappears them. But the murder itself would still follow pattern. He's a creature of habit. We follow the pattern."

"Feeney's on it," Peabody announced. "What's the next step?"

"Yours is to contact the cousins. I'm going to track down Mira. I want an NYPSD profile on this guy. The Feebs aren't the only ones who can generate paperwork."