Creation in Death (In Death #25)(12)

“He likes to give them enough nutrients to keep them going,” Feeney said.

Eve nodded. “I remember. Then ends it this way.” She lifted the victim’s hand, turned the wrist up. “Crosshatches, but not too deep. She’ll bleed out, but it’ll take time. Adds to his clock.”

“I expect, given the prior blood loss, trauma, two hours. Three at the most. She would have lost consciousness before the end of it.”

“Any trace of what he used to wash her down?”

“Yes. In the scalp wounds, and the punctures under the nails. I sent it to the lab.”

“Send over some skin scrapings, some hair. I want to see what kind of water. City water? Suburbs?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“He’ll be starting on the second.” Feeney looked at Eve as she took off the goggles. “Probably has the third picked out.”

“Yeah. I’m going to see the commander. For now, you tag a couple of your best men. I want them running and analyzing data as we get it, running probabilities. First on scene was Gil Newkirk’s son.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, you reach out to Newkirk, senior? He’s out of the one-seven, so’s his kid. I’m bringing the son in on the uniform end of the task force, if his lieutenant doesn’t have a problem with it.”

“Who’s the LT?”

“Grohman.”

“I know him,” Feeney told her. “I’ll handle it.”

“Good.” Eve checked the time, calculated. “Peabody, book us a conference room, and I want it for the duration. They give you any lip about it, toss them to Whitney. We’ll meet there for the first briefing at oh-nine-hundred.”

As they headed out, Eve shot a look at Roarke. “I take it you want to stick for the briefing.”

“You trust correctly.”

“I’m going to need to clear that with Whitney.”

“All right.”

“Take the wheel. I’ll see what I can do.”

She put the call through, unsurprised to find Whitney already at his desk. “Sir, we’re heading into Central now from the morgue. We’re booking a conference room.”

“Locked in A,” Peabody said from the backseat.

“Conference room A,” Eve relayed. “And I’m scheduling the first briefing at oh-nine-hundred.”

“I’ll be there. So will Chief Tibble.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve brought in Captain Feeney as we worked together on the previous investigation. I’ve asked him for two additional e-men to run data. I would like to put Officer Newkirk on the uniform part of the task force as he was first on scene, and is the son of an officer who was involved in the previous investigation.”

“I’ll clear that for you.”

“Sir, Feeney’s on that. I want four additional men. Baxter, Trueheart, Jenkinson, and Powell. I’ll reassign whatever caseloads they’re currently carrying. I need them clear for this.”

“It’s your call, Lieutenant, but Trueheart’s an aide, not a detective, and doesn’t have extensive experience.”

“He’s tireless, sir, and has an excellent eye. Baxter’s given him some seasoning.”

“I’ll trust your judgment.”

“Thank you. I’ll need Dr. Mira to review and possibly update the profile, and could make use of an expert consultant, civilian.”

Whitney said nothing for five long seconds. “You want to bring Roarke in on this, Dallas?”

“The victim was an employee. The connection can clear some roads in the investigation and interviews. In addition, Commander, he has access to better equipment than the NYPSD. We may have use for it.”

“Again, your call, your judgment.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dawn was breaking as Roarke swung into the garage at Central. “We’re in the house, sir. I’ll be set up by nine hundred.”

“I’ll contact Dr. Mira and the chief.”

Eve sat for a moment when Roarke pulled into her slot. In the back, Peabody snored in quiet, almost ladylike snorts. “You know something about torture,” she said at length.

“I do, yes.”

“And you know people who know people.”

“True.”

“That’s what I want you to think about. And if you have a contact that can add to the data, I want you to use it. He has tools, and he has a workshop. It would be well set up, well equipped. I think he’d have e-toys, too. Monitor the vic’s pulse rate, maybe brain wave patterns. Cameras, audio. It seems to me he’d want to watch, and you can’t watch and work. Not when you’re that focused.”

“Whatever you need from me.”

She nodded, then turned and shoved Peabody’s knee.

“Huh? What?” Peabody jerked upright, blinked. “I was thinking.”

“Yeah, I always drool and snore when I’m lost in thought.”

“Drool?” Mortified, Peabody wiped at her mouth. “I wasn’t drooling.”

“You’ve got one hour in the crib.”

“No, I’m okay.” Peabody climbed out, blinked her eyes wide as if to show she was alert. “Just nodded off for a minute.”