Visions In Death

She thought of Celina's words. And she agreed with them.

What he'd done to Elisa had been well pla

She hadn't hit all the elements with her search for similar crimes. Maybe he'd added or adjusted. Maybe one or more of those hits had been his work.

Pride. Celina had spoken of his pride. She wasn't sure she liked depending so heavily on the opinion of a psychic, but it was another point she agreed with. There'd been pride, arrogant pride, in the way he'd displayed his victim.

Look at what I've done, what I can do. In the city's great park, so close to the home of the wealthy and privileged.

Yeah, he was proud of his work. And what did a man with pride in his work do when that work didn't reach the standards he wanted? He buried the mistakes.

Her blood began to hum. It was the right track. She knew it. And she swung back to her machine. She saved and filed the results of her initial search, then brought up Missing Persons.

She started with a twelve-month search, stuck with Manhattan, and keyed in Elisa's basic description to narrow the parameters.

"Dallas-" "Wait." Attention focused on her screen, Eve shot up a hand to stop Peabody. "He had to practice. He had to. Guy builds his body up, stays strong and fit, it takes discipline. Takes practice. He lives and walks and exists day after day, holding in that kind of rage, it takes discipline, it takes willpower.

But you have to let it out some time, you have to let go. You have to kill. So you practice until you get it just right."

Search complete. Two results that match parameters given.

First image onscreen.

"What is it?" Peabody demanded.

"Potentially? His practice sessions. Look at her. Same physical type as Maplewood. Same age group, same coloring, same basic build." Peabody came in, mirroring Eve's earlier position by leaning over her shoulder. "No resemblance beyond surface I mean but yeah, same basic type." "Computer, split screen for second image, list date on each."

Working.. Task complete.

"Thumbs-up for McNab," Eve mumbled.

"Don't look like sisters," Peabody commented. "Cousins, maybe." "Marjorie Kates," Eve read. "Age thirty-two. Unmarried, no kids, midtown address. Employed as restaurant manager.

Reported missing by fiance, April second of this year. Didn't come home from work. Lansing and Jones caught this one.

Second is Breen Merriweather. Age thirty. Divorced, one child son, age five Upper East Side. Employed as a studio tech, Cha

"I need these files, Peabody. I need to talk to these detectives." "On it."

Since Lansing and Jones worked out of Central, it only took trips on three glides and one elevator to get to their division.

She found them both at desks, facing each other.

"Detectives Lansing and Jones? Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. Appreciate the time." "Lansing." The bull-chested, redheaded cop of about fifty stuck out a hand. "No problem, Lieutenant. You think one of yours is co

"Nope." Lansing pulled his lip. "How about a clue?" "We're on the sexual homicide/mutilation in Central Park.

Our vic's the same physical type as your MR I'm pursuing the theory that he's done some practicing." "Well, shit," Jones said.

We can go by Polinski's and Silk's station on the way to see this Royce Cabel." "How about the gyms with sweaty guys with thick necks?" "We'll move on it." Because it was faster, they squeezed on an elevator to ride down to garage level. Eve did her best to ignore the elbow wedged in her ribs. "I want us to give Nadine an interview." "Because of the 75 co

"Why don't we see if we can set up the interview later today?" "At Central?" "Yeah. Central Park. At last." Eve all but leaped out of the doors when they hit the garage.

"Dallas, wait!" Peabody grabbed her arm, dug in her heels.

"I have something to tell you." "Make it snappy." "I want to say first, that in just a few moments, you're going to be overcome with a powerful urge to kiss me on the lips. I won't think less of you for it." "Peabody, why, even in your wild, perverted dreams reams I want no part in or of would I ever have the least compunction to kiss you on the lips?" "Close your eyes."

Eve spoke quietly, almost casually. "Have you lost your fucking mind?" "Okay, okay." Peabody pouted a little. "You're no fun." She crossed over to Eve's parking slot, spread her arms with a flourish and said: "Voila!" "What the hell is that?" "That, Lieutenant, is your replacement vehicle. Pucker up." Eve goggled. It was a rare thing to see the lieutenant goggle, and Peabody celebrated the moment with a snappy little tap dance.

Slowly, Eve walked around the sleek, navy blue sedan. It shone under the hard garage lights like a dignified jewel.

The tires were big, black, and clean. The glass and chrome sparkled.

"This is not my vehicle." "Is too." "This is my vehicle?" "Uh-huh." Peabody bobbed her head like a puppet on a happy string.

"Get out." Eve smacked her in the shoulder. "How'd you pull this off?" "A little fast talk, some slight exaggeration, a lot of prevarication, and a little assistance from an e-fairy who knows how to hack." "You got it through unethical and possibly illegal means." "Damn straight." Eve set her hands on her hips, looked Peabody square in the eyes. "This is such a proud moment for me. A proud, proud moment." "Are you going to kiss me on the lips?" "Not that proud." "How about a peck on the cheek?" "Get in the car." "Your codes, Lieutenant." She handed them over, strolled around to the passenger side. "And you know what, Dallas? This bitch is loaded." "Oh yeah?" Eve slid into a seat, gri