Creation In Death

“I pulled them out.” He passed her a disc. “In case you wanted to check them out again.”

“We’ll do that. Are you on duty, Officer Newkirk?”

“Day off,” he said.

“If you got the time and the interest, maybe you could run these through with Feeney, for current data. I’d be grateful.”

“No problem. I’m happy to assist in any way.”

Eve got to her feet, offered her hand again. “Thanks. I’ve got a meeting. I’ll check back as soon as I can. Peabody, Roarke, with me.”

She had to concentrate not to limp, and giving into her throbbing leg, headed for the small and often odorous confines of the elevator.

“Remember,” she said to Roarke, “you’re a civilian, and this is a NYPSD op.”

“That’s expert civilian to you, copper.”

She didn’t smirk-very much-then squeezed herself onto an elevator. “And don’t call the commander Jack. It negates the serious and official tone, and…it’s just wrong.”

“Yo, Dallas!”

She turned her head to see one of the detectives from Anti-Crime gri

“Heard some mope took a chunk out of you, and now he’s got himself a case of rabies.”

“Yeah? I heard some LC got a taste of you, and now she’s got herself a case of the clap.”

“And that,” Roarke murmured as a number of cops hooted, “is serious and official.”

In his office, Whitney stood behind his desk, and Mira beside a visitor’s chair. “Lieutenant,” he said. “Detective. Roarke.”

“Sir, as I believe the expert consultant may be able to assist with the content of this meeting, I’ve asked him to be included.”

“Your call. Please, sit.”

While Roarke, Peabody, and Mira took seats, Eve remained standing. “With permission, Commander, to first update you and Dr. Mira.”

She ran it through, quick and spare.

“You were shadowed?” Whitney didn’t question her statement. “Any thoughts on why?”

“Yes, sir. Dr. Mira broached the possibility that I may be a target. That rather than the springboard for these particular women being Roarke, the springboard for any co

“You didn’t mention this theory to me, Doctor.”

“I asked Dr. Mira to give me time to evaluate,” Eve said before Mira could speak. “To consider, and to run probabilities before we shifted the focus on this area of the investigation. Having done so, I believe it’s a viable theory. I was a detective on the first investigation, partner to the primary. I fall within the parameters of his choice of victim. I may have crossed paths with him nine years ago, or walked a parallel line.

“I think he came back to New York for specific reasons. And I think one of them is his intention to bag me.”

“He’ll be disappointed,” Whitney commented.

“Yes, sir, he will.”

“How strongly do you support this theory, Mira?”

“I’ve run my own probabilities, and I believe, given his pathology, he would consider capturing the lieutenant, a woman with considerable training and authority, a woman married to a man with considerable power, to be his finest achievement. However, it leads me to another question. How will he top it?”

“He can’t,” Roarke stated. “And knows that he won’t. She’s the last, isn’t she? The best, the most challenging, his ultimate.”

“Yes.” Mira nodded. “I agree. He’s willing to alter, even slightly, his victim profile. This is not a woman who can be pi

“He’s stopped before,” Peabody put in. “A year or two. But how can he just decide he’s finished? This kind of killer doesn’t stop unless he’s captured or killed.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“You think he’s dying,” Eve said to Mira. “Or that he’s decided to self-terminate after he finishes me.”

“I do. Yes, I believe exactly that. I also believe he doesn’t fear it. Death is an accomplishment to him, and a timed cycle, which he has, for nearly a decade we know of, controlled. He doesn’t fear his own death, and that only makes him more dangerous.”

“We need to give him an opening.” Eve narrowed her eyes. “And soon.”

“If it’s too easy, he won’t bite.” Roarke met Eve’s gaze when she turned. “I know something about challenges. If it comes too easy, it’s not worth the trouble. He’ll want to work for it. At the very least he’ll want to believe that he outwitted you. And he’s had much longer to plan, to devise and study the problem than you have.”

“I agree.” Mira leaned forward. “If what we believe is true, you’re the finish to his work. You complete it. The fact that you’re pursuing him even as he pursues you not only ups the stakes but adds a particular shine. You would be, quite literally, his masterpiece. With his need for control, he must feel he’s manipulated the outcome. Lured you, despite your training and advantages, as he’s lured the others.”

“So we let him believe it,” Eve said, “right up to the moment we take him down. He has to be aware by now that we know his face. My take, from the profile, from what we know, is that it will only add to his excitement, his enjoyment. No one’s ever gotten this close before. And while he’s never overtly sought attention from the killing, his method indicates pride in it. In the end, if that’s what this is, won’t he want to be known?”

“And remembered,” Mira confirmed.

“We don’t know where or when, but we know who the target is, and we know why. Big advantages. We have his face, body type, age range. We know more about him than we did nine years ago.”

She wanted to pace, to move while she talked it through, but Eve considered that inappropriate in Whitney’s office. “He probably has a co

“He wanted us to get closer this time.” Whitney nodded. “And by using Roarke’s people, he made it personal.”

“But he doesn’t know how much we know,” Peabody put in. “He doesn’t know we’ve concluded Dallas is his end game. That’s another advantage. As long as he thinks she’s looking ahead-I mean that she’s focused on the pursuit, he’ll think he can ease around behind her, bag the prize.”

“Back to an opening. One he can believe he helped make,” Eve said to Roarke. “You’re going to need to go back to work.”

“Back to?”

“To the buying-controlling-interest-of-the-known-universe-one-sector-at-a-time work. He’s not going to move on me if I’m in lockstep with you, or you,” she said to Peabody, “or anyone else. We have to give him a little room. If he knows my routines, then he knows I generally travel to and from Central solo, that I might do a follow-up after shift on my own. We need to crack the window for him.”

“Giving the appearance I’ve gone back to business, so to speak, is easy enough,” Roarke replied. His tone was even, almost casual. But Eve heard the steel under it. “But as long as that window’s cracked I’ll be an active member of this team. This is not,” he continued, and addressed himself to the commander now, “simply a matter of me insisting on having some part in protecting the lieutenant. This man has taken three of my people, and one is already dead. It won’t be back to business for me until he’s apprehended-or as dead as Sarifina York.”

“Understood. Lieutenant, it was your choice to bring the civilian on board. Unless you feel his particular talents and expertise are no longer useful, I believe he should remain active.”

“You can’t stick too close,” Eve began. “If he senses you’re concerned for my safety, he could pull back. So make the appearance a good one.”