Obsession in Death (In Death #40)(84)

She chose a camera at random, looked straight into it as she spoke. “The suspect murdered two unarmed people, stunning them first. Mr. Hastings was also unarmed and stunned. The difference in this last incident is the presence of a witness and the suspect fleeing the scene rather than confronting someone who was not stunned unconscious. Draw your own conclusions.”

She turned her back dismissively, walked away while the questions rained after her.

“You intended to call the suspect a coward in front of the cameras,” Kyung commented.

“Draw your own conclusions,” she repeated. “Peabody, McNab, let’s go.”

She needed to see a friend before she went back to chasing a killer.

17

“Door-to-door service rocking it.” McNab climbed into the All-Terrain behind Peabody – and gave her butt a quick squeeze. “Buy you a cup of coffee, Dallas?”

She started to refuse, on principle, then thought better of it. She could use some wire in the blood. “Yeah, thanks.”

Eve pulled out while he worked the AutoChef.

“So hey, Peabody said how you did a holo walk-through, and it sparked me. I got together with Yancy, and we played around with holo-construct on the UNSUB. Using his sketches, the security discs, estimating height and all that happy.”

He programmed her coffee in a go-cup, passed it forward.

“Did the highest probable on build – and we split out there, but we both lean toward most of the bulk being the coat, whatever she’s wearing under it. Giving the ratios of arm and leg length, hands, feet, breadth of shoulders and hips, factoring the outerwear and all that, we figure she’s between five-eight and five-ten, running about a buck fifty. Gotta have some muscle in there, right? Your reconstruct says the first vic wasn’t dragged but carried. First vic weighed one-eighteen.”

He handed Peabody a coffee, regular. “Hair and eyes are crapshoots – can’t see the hair. Hastings says brown, but you can change eye color. But we batted it around and we like short hair on her. Sure, she could pile it up under the cap, but it’s easier and smarter, even if she has a bonnet under it, to go with short. Less chance of a stray one, right?”

Eve flicked a glance in the rearview as he programmed a fizzy for himself. “You’ve been thinking, McNab.”

“Put the gray cells on it, LT.” He grinned at her. “We came up with a series of five images – some variations in them, and I wouldn’t bet my ass any of them bull’s-eyes it, but I’d gamble my next paycheck we got close.”

He slurped down some fizzy. “Finished up right before Peabody tagged me, so I sent the file to your comps. You can take a look when you get home.”

“Why wait?” Traffic was nasty and slow. “Can I call it up here, the in-dash?”

“Absotively.” Knowing her, he flipped off his safety belt, levered up and over the front seat. “Give me a sec.”

He smelled like cherry fizzy, she thought, looked like a guy running off to perform in an off-Broadway review. At the North Pole. But when it came to e-work he… well, he rocked it out.

“There you go. I’m going to run it back here so She-body gets the gander, too.”

Eve shifted the vehicle into auto. She might make it to Mavis’s quicker by attacking the traffic, but the time, she determined, was better spent studying McNab and Yancy’s collaboration.

The first composite showed a tall woman, solid build, excellent muscle tone. That excellent muscle tone was visible as the two detectives had dressed the image in a minuscule polka-dot bikini.

“Gotta take your jollies where you find them,” McNab claimed when Eve’s eyes flicked to the rearview again. “Plus it gives you a good sense of possible body type.”

“Hmm” was Eve’s comment. They’d gone with a short, almost centurion cut and mid-brown hair. Using Hastings’s description, they hit the same tone on the eyes. Thinnish mouth, straight nose, slightly rounded chin.

“Did you run any facial recognition?”

“We did some simultaneous, but the deal with standard features and shit is you get a few zillion hits, which is the same as none.”

Nodding, Eve moved to the next as the burly vehicle negotiated the snarly, rush-hour traffic.

Slimmer build now with tough-looking arms, lighter hair in a short, sharp wedge. And a gold metallic bikini this time.

And the next, a bit heavier, curvier, spiked hair, squarer at the chin, slightly fuller lower lip. Wearing a sparkly pink G-string and tiny bra in the shape of silver stars.

“The way we set it up, you can mix and match the features and elements,” he explained.

“Like playing Morph Dollies,” Peabody said. “I loved that toy when I was a kid.”

“I bet your morphing dolls didn’t garrote the other dolls.”

“Would that be iced or what?” McNab cut in before Peabody could answer. “Murdering Morphing Dollies. Roarke totally ought to produce that.”

“I’ll pass that on. This is good work, McNab. Wouldn’t bet my ass on the bull’s-eye, either, but this is good thinking, and good work.”

“All in a day’s.”

Letting it play in the back of her head, Eve went back to manual. She didn’t hold out much hope for parking close to the apartment, but stranger had happened.