Obsession in Death (In Death #40)(49)

“He’s not going to get it, and for as long as I can hold back the information, I will.”

Mira nodded, sipped. “You also made it clear you’d do your job.”

“And I will. Wouldn’t he expect that of me? If I didn’t, wouldn’t that knock a few inches off my pedestal?”

Mira smiled. “Yes. He expects you to pursue him – that’s exciting, isn’t it? And it shows not only his confidence in his abilities, but his deep belief that you’ll pursue primarily to find him, meet with him, cement the relationship. But he’d want that meeting to be on his terms. He leaves only the message. How do you find him through his words?”

“Working on it.”

“I’ll continue to send you best possibilities, but I think you’re looking for someone too careful, too organized to have used a name, left an easy way to track. It’s more likely any communication with you was anonymous, or with some sort of code name, and sent from a blocked location, or through a dummy account.”

“Yeah, I lean there. We need to check, follow through, but I lean there. I’ve got people doing cross-checks, and we may be able to narrow it down. Lab rats are analyzing the handwriting, but I don’t expect much there. I’m going to run an analysis of the words. The messages against the correspondence. Until it’s narrowed some, that would take from now to a few years after the world ends. But I hope to start it tonight.”

She hesitated a moment – but this was Mira. “I’ve brought Nadine in. What I’ve told her is off the record, and she won’t blur that line.”

“No, she won’t, and she’ll dig. But I thought she was out of the country. Nevis, isn’t it?”

“Was. She’s back. Hot story.”

“Hot story, good friend. If she’s willing to share her correspondence with me, I can add it to my analysis.”

“I’ll give that a push.”

“I’ll send you more, and you may be able to eliminate some of those potentials through the profile. Your UNSUB lives alone, or if with parents, roommates, any sort of cohab, spends a great deal of time closed off from them. While capable of holding down a job or building a career, this person isn’t capable of maintaining strong or genuine relationships. Casual friends, perhaps, but more colleagues, coworkers with little if any social interaction.”

“Law enforcement,” Eve said. “I think he’s connected, somehow.”

“He’s conflicted. His idealization of you means he respects – and respect is paramount to him – the law, the badge. At the same time he believes the rules governing the law, society, must be circumvented in order for justice to truly be served, for the law to truly be upheld.”

Mira set her teacup aside, leaned forward a little. “He’s organized, Eve. He’s meticulous and efficient, intelligent, with low self-esteem coupled with a hero complex. And I’d agree, a deep interest, perhaps experience, in police work, in the justice system – with that equally deep distrust in the capabilities of both.”

“Cops burn out,” Eve considered. “So do prosecutors, social workers, crime scene techs – anybody who deals with what we deal with and sees sometimes, too often, the system doesn’t come through.”

“It’s likely the system failed him at some point, or his work within that system hasn’t been enough to bring about perfect justice. His perfection. You’re more than a symbol, Eve, remember that. You’re the flesh-and-blood ideal restrained only by the rules of that system. You need him. When he realizes you don’t feel that need – and he will – he’ll seek to punish instead of avenge.

“You’ll go from angel to demon, and quickly.”

“Can’t be soon enough.” Eve rose.

“You wouldn’t be the first target.”

Eve nodded, though it made her sick inside. “I’m going to handle that, if it comes to that. We catch him first, it won’t. You and Mr. Mira have to take precautions.”

“Yes, we’re aware.”

“You could do me a solid.”

“Of course.”

“Get a driver – until this is done. A driver who knows how to handle himself. Herself. Whichever. You don’t want to go down into the garage here unattended. He could work here. He could be a cop or support staff. And you don’t want to get out of your car here or at home and have someone go at you. It would take that off my head.”

“All right. Dennis and I have already talked about some of this, and I use a service sometimes anyway.”

“The driver has to have training,” Eve insisted. “And you know about answering the door for a delivery, but Mr. Mira can be a little forgetful.”

“Not when it’s important.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She started for the door. “It’ll probably be tonight. The next. I’m not going to be able to stop it.”

“You’re not responsible, Eve.”

“No. A couple of airboards weren’t responsible for two kids getting sliced up on their way home from the boarding park. But they were a motive. This isn’t any different. Get the driver,” she added, and left.

She wanted to be out in the field, doing something active. Intimidating somebody, maybe kicking some ass. Instead she closed herself in her office again with her board, her notes, and the coffee Mira thought she’d already had too much of.