Visions In Death

Sidewalk sleepers, runaways, junkies, whatever. Someone who wouldn't get reported missing, or was reported months before the grab. He had it down to a science when he killed Elisa Maplewood. He might have been working up to that for years." "Happy thought." "They represent somebody: mother, sister, lover, a woman who rejected him, refused him, abused him. Dominant female figure." Why, she wondered, did the twisted tree of a murderer so often go back to the mother root? Did the gestation and birthing process come with the power to nurture or destroy? "When we get him," Eve continued, "it's going to come out that she this symbol knocked him around or boooo broke his heart or made him feel weak and helpless. So his defense lawyers will come along saying: Oh, he was damaged, poor sick son of a bitch. He's not responsible. And that's a pile of shit, that's a big, smelly pile of bullshit. Because nobody's responsible for choking the life out of Elisa Maplewood but him. Nobody." Peabody let the rant run, waited until she was sure it was over. "Preaching to the choir." Eve drew it back in. "Yeah. Where the hell is Nadine? She doesn't show in five, we cancel. We need to follow up on Merriweather." "We're a couple minutes early." "I guess we are." Eve sat on the grass, drew her knees up, and studied the castle. "You ever skip around parks when you were a kid?" "Sure." Glad the storm had passed, Peabody sat beside her.

"Free-Agers, you know. I was a regular nature girl. You?" "No. Couple of stints in what you could call summer camp." Run by state-hired Nazis, Eve thought, who regulated every breath. "This one's not so bad. You know it's still in the city, so it's okay." "Not looking to make nature girl?" "Nature'll kill you, just for the hell of it." Eve glanced over and watched Nadine and her camera operator crossing to them. "Why would she wear those ski

She was smart, she was sneaky, she was cynical.

And for reasons Eve imagined neither of them fully understood, they'd become friends.

"Dallas. Peabody. Don't you two look relaxed and pastoral.

Why don't you set up there?" She gestured to the camera. "I want the castle in the background. You got any real juice," she said to Eve, "I can take this live." "No. And we're keeping it short. We could even say pithy." "Pithy it is." Nadine took out a small compact to check her face, lifted a paper-thin sponge and dabbed her nose. "Who's leading off?"

"She is." Eve jerked a thumb at Peabody.

"I am?" "Let's get to it." Nadine nodded to the camera, angled her body. Gave her shoulders a roll, her hair a little shake. And her easy smile turned into a cool, serious look.

"This is Nadine Furst, in Central Park with Lieutenant Eve Dallas and Detective Delia Peabody of the New York City Police and Security Department, Homicide Division. Behind us is Belvedere Castle, one of the city's most unique landmarks, and the site of a recent, violent murder. Elisa Maplewood, a woman who worked and lived only a short distance from here, a single mother of a four-year-old child, was assaulted near the very spot where we're standing. She was brutally raped and murdered. Detective Peabody, as a key member of the investigative team handling Elisa Maplewood's murder, can you tell us what progress you've made in finding her killer?" "We are actively pursuing all leads and utilizing all the resources at our disposal." "Are you confident you'll make an arrest?" Don't screw up, Peabody ordered herself. Don't screw up.

"The case remains open and active. Lieutenant Dallas and I will continue to work toward identifying Ms Maplewood's assailant, gathering evidence that will result in an arrest in order to bring this individual to justice." "Can you tell us what specific leads you are pursuing?" "I'm unable to discuss specific details of this investigation as such might taint the case we're building or affect the progress of said investigation." "As a woman, Detective, do you feel this particular crime more personally?" Peabody started to deny, then remembered part of the purpose of the interview. "As a cop, it's imperative to remain objective in every investigation. It's impossible not to feel, on a personal level, compassion and outrage for any victim of any crime, but that compassion and outrage can't be allowed to overcome objectivity and interfere. Because the victim must be our priority. As a woman, I feel that compassion and outrage on Elisa Maplewood's behalf. Like Lieutenant Dallas, I want the individual responsible for her suffering and pain for the suffering and pain of her family, her friends identified and punished." "Do you agree, Lieutenant Dallas?" "Yes, I do. A woman stepped out of her home, intending to walk her dog in the city's greatest park. Her life was taken from her, and that's enough for outrage. But it was taken viciously, violently, deliberately. As a cop, as a woman, I will pursue the man who took Elisa Maplewood's life, however long it takes, until he's brought to justice." "How was she mutilated?" "At this point, that detail of the crime and investigation is not for public consumption." "Don't you believe in the public's right to know, Lieutenant?" "I don't believe the public has a right to know everything.

And I believe the media has the responsibility to respect the department's decision to hold certain details back. We don't do so to deprive or deny the public of their rights, but to preserve the integrity of an investigation.

"Nadine," she said and had Nadine blinking. Eve never referred to her by her first name on-air. "We're women in what could be considered high-powered professions.

However much a crime like this disturbs us, a crime in this case specifically targeted at women, we have to maintain that professionalism in order to do the job we've signed up to do. And in this case, the case of Elisa Maplewood, it will be women who stand for her, and who work toward seeing that her killer is punished to the fullest extent of the law."

Nadine started to speak again, but Eve shook her head.

That's it. Camera off." "I have more questions." "That's it," Eve repeated. "Let's take a walk." "But-" Nadine only sighed as Eve was already hiking away. "Slow it down. Heels here." "Your choice, pal." "You wear a weapon, I wear heels. Tools of our respective trades." She hooked her arm through Eve's to slow her down. "So, what was that last bit about? Eve." "A personal message to the killer. Off-record here, Nadine." "Tell me how he mutilated her. Off-record, Dallas. It's driving me crazy." "He cut out her eyes." "Jesus." Nadine breathed in, stared off into the trees. "Oh, Jesus. Was she already dead?" "Yeah." "Thank God for that. So you've got some psychotic out there who has a big hate on for women? Not Maplewood specifically." That's my working theory." "And the reason you suggested the interview. Us three girls.

Clever of you." Tell me what you know about Breen Merriweather." "Breen?" Nadine's head snapped around. "Oh God, oh God, did you find her?" She gripped Eve's arm now. "Is she dead? Did this bastard kill her, too?" "No, she hasn't been found. I don't know if she's dead, but I suspect she is, and I believe it might be co

What do you know about her?" "I know she was a nice, hard-working woman who adored her son… Jesus, is he targeting single mothers?" "I don't think so, no."

"Let me take a second." She walked a few feet away, hugged her arms. "We weren't best pals or anything like that. More a working friendship. I liked her, and appreciated her efficiency.