Imitation in Death

But the paper could be traced, could give her a list of names to pursue.

The basket of peaches was another. That was arrogance. I can walk right out of here, leaving the brutalized dead behind, and eat a nice ripe peach.

There might be other mistakes. She would pick everything apart until she found them. He would make other mistakes, because however smart he was, he was cocky.

She looked toward the open door when she heard the sound of footfalls, and her forehead creased.

“Hey,” she said, as Feeney walked in. The neatly pressed shirt told her his wife had handed it to him out of the closet. The broken-in shoes said he’d gotten away from her beforeMrs.Feeney could nag him into putting on a less disreputable pair.

He’d probably combed his hair, but it was already frizzing out in its usual wiry thatch of ginger and silver. There was a little nick on his chin because he claimed a man couldn’t shave proper unless he used an actual razor.

“Got your message,” he said.

“It was late, that’s why I dumped it to voice mail. I didn’t mean for you to come around this morning, go out of your way.”

“It’s only out of my way if there aren’t any danishes back there.”

“Probably are. If not there, somewhere else.”

Taking that as invitation, he walked back to the kitchen. She could hear him sca

He came back in with a pastry and an enormous mug of coffee. “So,” he said, and sat, studying the board as she had. “He’s two for two.”

“Yeah, and I’m batting zero. Clipped the ball a couple times, but it keeps curving foul. Once he hits again, the media’s going to pick up the scent, and we’ll have a holy mess on our hands: ‘Deadly Mimic Stalking New York.’ ‘Chameleon Killer Baffles Police.’ They love that shit.”

Feeney scratched his cheek, ate more pastry. “Public does, too. Sick bastards.”

“I’ve got a lot of data, a lot of angles. Thing is, I pull one line and six more drop down. I can pushWhitney for more manpower, but you know how it goes. I keep it low profile, and the budget only stretches so far. Once it breaks and people start screaming, politics come into play and I can stretch it further.”

“EDD’s got more manpower, more funds,” he finished.

“I’ve got no direct need for EDD on this. The research and runs are standard stuff, nothing fancy. I’ve got no ‘links or security to probe. But…”

“My boys can always use the practice.” Feeney called his detectives and drones ‘boys,’ no matter how their skin was shaped.

“I’d appreciate it. It would free me up for interviews and fieldwork. I started thinking last night: This guy, he’s careful and he’s precise. Look at thevic photos-the old ones, and his. Positioning, basic build and coloring of thevics, method of death. Everything. They’re good copies, careful copies. So how do you get so good?”

Feeney polished off the danish, gulped coffee. “You practice. I’ll run that myself, through IRCCA, see if we get a pop.”

“It won’t be exact,” she said, grateful. “I’ve got a hit on the first, and it’s not exact. But when I did the run I was only looking for the one style. Now we’ve got two styles, and the potential for others. He’s too careful for an exact match-he might do it that way, but he’d change it after. Wouldn’t leave the scene precisely as he intended to leave the ones he’d make public.”

“Doesn’t want to show off until he’s got it down to a science,” Feeney said with a nod.

“Yeah. Any that were exact, he’d get rid of the bodies. Bury them, dump them. But he’s not a kid. Not twenty. He’s mature, and he didn’t start killing with Wooton. He’s been at this a while.”

“I’ll work both styles, and whatever else you think he might go for.”

“Everybody on my short list, but one I haven’t pi

“Send me the files.”

“Thanks. I should tell you, there are some sensitive names on my list. We’ve got a diplomat, a well-known entertainer, a writer making a name for himself, and an asshole entertainment broker who’s hooked up with a top-name actress. There’ve already been complaints of police harassment and blah blah. There’ll be more.”

He gri

– -«»--«»--«»--

Once Feeney left, she organized the files, sent them to his unit in EDD, noted the action in a memo to the commander. She ran another spurt of probabilities, toyed with some simulations, but they were really no more than an exercise to let her mind work.

By the time she was done, the computer and she agreed on a list of prototypes her killer might emulate next.

She eliminated any who had worked with a partner or targeted males. Any who concealed or destroyed the bodies. And highlighted any whose notoriety had outlived them.

She was just begi

The droids always spooked her. Roarke rarely used them, and she rarely saw them in the house. She would have withstood any ma

“Excuse me for interrupting,LieutenantDallas.”

The droid was female, with a husky voice. The dignified black uniform did nothing to disguise the fact she’d been built to rival a porn star.

Evefigured she didn’t have to be a trained investigator to deduce her amused husband had activated this one purposefully, just so she could compare the big-titted blonde to the bony-assed Summerset.

She’d have to pay him back for this one, eventually.

“What’s the problem?”

“There is a visitor at the gate. AMs.PepperFranklin who wishes to speak with you. Are you available?”

“Sure. She’s saving me a trip. Is she alone?”

“She has arrived in a private car, with driver. But she has no companion.”

Left Fortney at home,Eve thought. “Let her in.”

“Shall I bring her up?”

“No, show her into the-what is it-the front parlor.”

“Would you care for refreshments?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

When the droid backed out of the room, Eve drummed her fingers for a moment. She glanced at the door that adjoined her home office with Roarke’s. Probably just as well he was off doing what he did all day. It would keep the social portion of this visit to a minimum.

Deliberately, she strapped on her weapon harness, left the jacket where she’d hung it over the back of her chair. A not-so-subtle way, Eve decided, to let Pepper know she was on the job.

Then she finished off her coffee, sat and hummed for another couple of minutes.

When she went down to the parlor, Pepper was waiting.

The actress was dressed in perfect summer style: a breezy white blouse over a thin blue tank that matched the cropped pants. She’d added heeled sandals that made Eve’s arches ache and had bundled her masses of gilt hair in some complicated up-do.

Eve caught her scent, something cool and floral, as she crossed the room.

“I appreciate you seeing me.” Pepper flashed her professional smile. “And so early in the day.”

“I’m Homicide. My day starts when yours ends.” At Pepper’s blank look, Eve shrugged. “Sorry. Little cop joke. What can I do for you?”

“I take it Roarke’s not home?”

“No. If you want to see him, you might be able to catch him in Midtown.”

“No. No, actually, I’d hoped to catch you alone. Could we sit?”

“Sure.” Eve gestured to a chair, took one of her own.

Pepper rested her hands on the arms of the deep chair, sighed as she sca