Golden in Death(101)
“Yeah, we had that set.”
“So when he doesn’t show, we go looking. We find something that clicks to this place, find it, find him. And there’s your dead guy, piles of evidence, killed by the same method he used to kill, which has a nice clang to it.” Feeney nodded as he studied the building. “Asshole figures case closed.”
“Yeah, and he’ll have a cover for tonight. But it’ll have a hole somewhere. Cosner was a follower. No way he came here tonight, all wound up about the interview tomorrow, and decided, on his own, to pack up another egg.”
“And without precautions,” Roarke added. “Would you, knowing what’s inside the egg, handle it without a suit? Or the very least gloves and a mask?”
“No, and good point.”
Harvo, who perched on the hood of Jenkinson’s ride, ticked a finger in the air. “You have to figure, right, the other bad guy was here—sometime or the other. Right?”
Eve glanced back. “Had to. He runs the show.”
“On average, a human sheds between fifty and a hundred hairs a day. Some experts say up to two hundred, but I lean more toward a hundred. Average.” She smiled. “We’d only need one.”
“It’s a big place, Harvo, with cleaning droids, and without any way—at this point—to confirm when the suspect was last inside.”
Tonight, Eve thought. She’d make book on it, but …
Harvo angled her head, spread her fingers to examine glossy blue nail polish. “Do you doubt the queen?”
She’d be a fool to, Eve admitted. “Okay, Harvo, once the specialty team clears the building, you can go in, take a look.”
“Mag-o!” She hopped down from the hood. “Will you hold off the sweepers, let me have first pass?”
“I can do that.”
“Even more mag-o. Can I get a lift to the lab and back? I need some stuff.”
“McNab,” Feeney said. “Take my ride.”
When the uniforms arrived, Eve had them set up barricades, start the canvass. Then she waited as the specialty team donned their protective suits.
When Junta came out a few minutes later, she walked straight to Eve. “The air’s clear, but I need you and your team to stay out. There’s another egg loaded, and there are hazardous chemicals. We need to secure and remove before I can clear you in.”
“How long?”
“I’ll let you know. And I’ll tell you something, Dallas. Whoever was living in that place, in the same place we’ve already found and identified sarin, chlorine gas, sulfur trioxide, fricking anthrax? They’re a fucking lunatic.”
“Were,” Eve said.
“Yeah. Well, let’s all stay alive.” She replaced her hood, started back.
21
It took nearly an hour, but that gave Morris time to arrive on scene. He wore a jacket over a light sweater and jeans, and had his hair in a loose tail rather than a complex braid.
Which told Eve he’d been at home, relaxing.
“I appreciate you coming.”
“The job’s the job.” He glanced around. “You’ve quite the team already assembled.”
“Just worked out that way. The building’s just been cleared.” She glanced over to where Harvo tucked her green hair into a cap. Not a white one, but like her suit and booties, a hot candy pink.
Harvo was never boring.
“Harvo, you can take the first floor. DB’s on the second. Morris and I will take the body, Peabody, Jenkinson, Reineke, standard search. E-team, security and electronics, including droids.”
She carried her field kit, Morris his medical bag, and, ignoring the people gathered at the barricades, they headed inside.
“It could be even less tasteful,” Morris commented. “It would take effort, but it could be less tasteful.”
“It could and is,” Roarke told him. “You haven’t seen the bedroom.”
Leaving the team to spread out, Eve went up the metal steps with Morris. He studied the body.
“Some would call it just deserts.”
“I call it damned inconvenient. I’d have broken him in the box. I’d have this wrapped, he’d be alive to spend many sad decades in a cage.”
She walked to the body, crouched, took out her pad for official ID while Morris began his exam.
“Body is identified as Marshall Cosner.”
“TOD,” Morris announced, “twenty-one-twenty.”
“Victim is a Caucasian male, age twenty-six, and owner of this building through a shell company.”
“Severe burning of the eyes, the dermis, inside the mouth,” Morris continued as he used a penlight, “the nostrils. Loss of blood and other bodily fluids through the mouth, ears, eyes, nose. Anus to be confirmed in-house.”
“No visible defensive or offensive wounds,” Eve added. “The victim is wearing a gold wrist unit…” She emptied pockets. “A ’link, a wallet—cash and plastic—and there are numerous valuables in the building, so no evidence of an altercation or robbery.”
“We’ll confirm in autopsy, but from this on-site, it appears Mr. Cosner’s COD is the same as the two previous victims. He was exposed to the nerve agent, inhaled same, and would have succumbed within minutes.”