Creation in Death (In Death #25)(74)

“He’s stopped before,” Peabody put in. “A year or two. But how can he just decide he’s finished? This kind of killer doesn’t stop unless he’s captured or killed.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“You think he’s dying,” Eve said to Mira. “Or that he’s decided to self-terminate after he finishes me.”

“I do. Yes, I believe exactly that. I also believe he doesn’t fear it. Death is an accomplishment to him, and a timed cycle, which he has, for nearly a decade we know of, controlled. He doesn’t fear his own death, and that only makes him more dangerous.”

“We need to give him an opening.” Eve narrowed her eyes. “And soon.”

“If it’s too easy, he won’t bite.” Roarke met Eve’s gaze when she turned. “I know something about challenges. If it comes too easy, it’s not worth the trouble. He’ll want to work for it. At the very least he’ll want to believe that he outwitted you. And he’s had much longer to plan, to devise and study the problem than you have.”

“I agree.” Mira leaned forward. “If what we believe is true, you’re the finish to his work. You complete it. The fact that you’re pursuing him even as he pursues you not only ups the stakes but adds a particular shine. You would be, quite literally, his masterpiece. With his need for control, he must feel he’s manipulated the outcome. Lured you, despite your training and advantages, as he’s lured the others.”

“So we let him believe it,” Eve said, “right up to the moment we take him down. He has to be aware by now that we know his face. My take, from the profile, from what we know, is that it will only add to his excitement, his enjoyment. No one’s ever gotten this close before. And while he’s never overtly sought attention from the killing, his method indicates pride in it. In the end, if that’s what this is, won’t he want to be known?”

“And remembered,” Mira confirmed.

“We don’t know where or when, but we know who the target is, and we know why. Big advantages. We have his face, body type, age range. We know more about him than we did nine years ago.”

She wanted to pace, to move while she talked it through, but Eve considered that inappropriate in Whitney’s office. “He probably has a connection with the Urban Wars, he likes opera, rather than physical means, he uses manipulation and deceit to obtain his victims, and often makes personal contact with them before the abduction. Unlike nine years ago, his victims lived or worked from midtown down. That’s purposeful.”

“He wanted us to get closer this time.” Whitney nodded. “And by using Roarke’s people, he made it personal.”

“But he doesn’t know how much we know,” Peabody put in. “He doesn’t know we’ve concluded Dallas is his end game. That’s another advantage. As long as he thinks she’s looking ahead—I mean that she’s focused on the pursuit, he’ll think he can ease around behind her, bag the prize.”

“Back to an opening. One he can believe he helped make,” Eve said to Roarke. “You’re going to need to go back to work.”

“Back to?”

“To the buying-controlling-interest-of-the-known-universe-one-sector-at-a-time work. He’s not going to move on me if I’m in lockstep with you, or you,” she said to Peabody, “or anyone else. We have to give him a little room. If he knows my routines, then he knows I generally travel to and from Central solo, that I might do a follow-up after shift on my own. We need to crack the window for him.”

“Giving the appearance I’ve gone back to business, so to speak, is easy enough,” Roarke replied. His tone was even, almost casual. But Eve heard the steel under it. “But as long as that window’s cracked I’ll be an active member of this team. This is not,” he continued, and addressed himself to the commander now, “simply a matter of me insisting on having some part in protecting the lieutenant. This man has taken three of my people, and one is already dead. It won’t be back to business for me until he’s apprehended—or as dead as Sarifina York.”

“Understood. Lieutenant, it was your choice to bring the civilian on board. Unless you feel his particular talents and expertise are no longer useful, I believe he should remain active.”

“You can’t stick too close,” Eve began. “If he senses you’re concerned for my safety, he could pull back. So make the appearance a good one.”

“Not a problem.”

“We keep working it, no dramatic shifts in the routine. But we split some of the legwork and interviews.”

“And you go, wherever you go,” Whitney ordered, “wired.”

“Yes, sir. I’m going to set that up with Feeney. I’ll need a homer for my vehicle, and—”

“Already done,” Roarke said, then smiled serenely when she turned on him. “You agreed to that action earlier.”

True, she thought, but she hadn’t expected him to take it on himself before she’d officially cleared it. Which, she had to admit, was stupid. That’s exactly what she should’ve expected. “Yeah, I did.”

“You’ll wear a vest,” Mira told her.

“A woman after my own heart,” Roarke murmured, and his smile spread at the annoyance on Eve’s face.