Delusion in Death edahr-44

by J. D. Robb

  “Peabody, catch on.”

  “Oh, we act like we don’t.”

  “Five minutes,” Eve said and hurried out.

  She contacted Jenkinson and Reineke first, ordered them to coordinate with Cher Reo for the warrant and move on it immediately. As she contacted Roarke she grabbed one more cup of real coffee.

  “I figured I’d get your admin,” she said when he came on himself.

  “I happen to be free at the moment.”

  “I’ve got Callaway coming in to help the inept females, and a search warrant for his place. He found docs his mother had stored away. I need them. Maybe he’s got some docs on where he’s getting the drugs, the fixings. I need his source. Jenkinson and Reineke are getting the warrant and implementing it. If you want in—”

  “It sounds like fun.”

  “If you’re busy with—”

  “Aren’t I entitled to a bit of fun?”

  “You’re right. It’s the least I can do for you. I’m going to see if Feeney can join in, or send McNab. I want all his electronics, and if he’s not a complete idiot, he’s got a hide in his place. Somewhere the cleaning people or a casual guest wouldn’t stumble on his work. He has to cook up the substance somewhere.”

  “Even more fun.”

  “I’m going to get mine by twisting a confession out of him.”

  “We’ll plan to celebrate later.”

  “How?”

  He smiled, slow and wicked. “I’ll think of something. Kick his ass, Lieutenant.”

  “Count on it.”

  When she got the signal Callaway was on his way up, she strode back into the bullpen, caught Carmichael and Sanchez on their way out.

  “We caught a fresh one,” Carmichael told her.

  “Let it hold a minute. Give me grief.”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Suspect’s coming up. Give me grief, put on a show, storm out. Mostly you,” she said to Sanchez. “He sees women as weak and expendable.”

  “Is that so?” Carmichael muttered.

  “What the hell do you expect?” Sanchez demanded, his voice bordering on a shout. “I’m running this department, working damn near around the clock.”

  “Hold it down, Detective,” Eve ordered, but wearily.

  “I am holding it down. Holding it all down, while you’re dancing with the feds, giving the media face time, and running in circles.”

  “We are carrying a lot, Lieutenant.”

  “We?” Sanchez rounded on his partner. “I’m carrying you, sister, just like always. And while I am Dallas sucks up all the manpower, all the resources. Every case we’ve got, that you dumped on us, is backed up because the lab’s put everything else on hold—on your authority.”

  “I’ve got a mass murderer who could strike again at any time, anywhere in the city,” Eve began.

  “Yeah, and you’re nowhere. You’d rather see this department go to hell than step back and let the feds take it. Get this, and get it straight, when you go down for screwing this up, I’m not going down with you.”

  He strode out, bulling by Callaway. Carmichael hunched in. “He hasn’t had much sleep, Lieutenant.” With a last nervous look, she hurried out after Sanchez.

  Eve let out a long sigh, dragged her hands through her hair as she turned. She jolted, wished she could pull off an embarrassed blush, but thought her expression accomplished the same thing.

  “Mr. Callaway, thanks for coming in.”

  “Your detective made it sound important.” He glanced back in the direction Sanchez and Carmichael had taken, didn’t quite mask the smirk before he sent Eve a sympathetic look. “It must be a difficult situation for you.”

  “Everyone’s overworked and on edge. If you’ll come with me, we’re set up in a conference room.”

  “I’m not sure what I can do,” he said as Eve led the way. “How I can help.”

  “You knew several of the victims, of both attacks. You’re familiar with both locations—the layout, the employees, the neighborhood. My sense, when we talked before, is you’re observant, and the fact you were actually in the first location may help.”

  “Believe me, I’ve gone over that evening countless times.”

  “We’re hoping if we talk you through it again, you may remember some small detail. I’m not going to lie to you—” Oh yeah, she thought, I am. “We’re in a bind.”

  She opened the door to the conference room, blocking the way for just a moment to make sure her voice carried in. “I have to tell you what we discuss here, what you see here is confidential. I’m trusting you, Mr. Callaway.”

  “You can. Please, call me Lew.”

  “Lew.” She tried for a relieved smile as she gestured him inside. “Detective Peabody, my partner, and Doctor Mira, our profiler.”

  Peabody nodded, continued to work on a computer while Mira rose, hand extended. “Thank you for coming in to consult.”

  “I consider it my duty.”

  “If only more did.”

  “Do you want some crappy coffee, something from Vending?” Eve asked him.

  He gave her an easy smile. “Crappy coffee’s just fine.” He moved forward to the boards, shifted to study the victims. “All of these people. I knew how many. The media’s reported so much. But seeing them like this, all together. It’s shocking.”

  “Those responsible have a great deal to answer for,” Mira stated.

  “You’re looking for more than one person?”

  “We’ve determined it’s not possible for a single individual to pull this off.” Eve spoke briskly as she programmed a pot of coffee. “It’s too complex, involves too much risk, too much planning, too many steps.”

  “At this time,” Mira put in, “we feel it’s most probable we’re dealing with a group.” She gestured to the victim board again. “In each case one of these people sacrificed themselves for the whole.”

  “My God.” He took the coffee Eve offered, ignored her. “But why?”

  “We have a few theories, but foremost, if there’s a group, there’s a head.” Eve took a seat. “Whoever that is, must be charismatic, dominant, and highly organized and intelligent. The target locations catered to businesses and offices like your own.”

  “People who work and live in that area,” Mira continued, joining Eve at the table so Callaway stood in the position of dominance. “We expected, and hoped, he would issue a statement, reveal his agenda or demands. The fact that he hasn’t proves him canny and very, very dangerous. He understands the value of noninformation, of inciting fear and panic. Those who believe in him believe in that agenda. Without that information …” She lifted her hands.

  “Which is where you might be able to help,” Eve told him. “We’ve been able to eliminate some of the victims, through background checks, interviews. We’re taking a close look at survivors of the attacks.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Whoever the leader sent in would have the best chance of surviving—knowing what’s coming, being able to take some sort of defense against it.”

  “Exactly. It helps we don’t have to spell everything out for you.”

  “Just common sense again,” he said to Eve.

  “Now the lab has been able to identify the most probable source, and we’ve reconstructed the attack—again the most probable scenario given the data.”

  “A reconstruction? It may jog something if I could see it.”

  You’d love it, Eve thought. “Let’s hope we don’t have to go there, Lew. Even computer-generated, it’s gruesome.” She opened a file. “This woman.” She tapped her finger on CiCi Way’s photo. “Do you recognize her?”

  “She looks familiar.” He knitted his brows.

  “She’s one of the survivors.”

  He took the photo, studied it carefully. “Yes. Yes, I remember her. She was with the woman you asked us about yesterday evening. Sitting at a table with two men.”

  “If you could think back carefully,” Mira urged him. “Try to visu
alize the bar, your position, the movements, this woman.”

  “I had my back to the room the majority of the time.”

  “There was a mirror behind the bar,” Eve reminded him.

  “And we tend to see things that don’t really register at the time, but we can bring back.” Mira leaned forward. “I’m trained in hypnotherapy. If you’ll allow me, I might be able to help you remember.”

  “Just give me a minute to think, to visualize.” When he closed his eyes, Eve exchanged a quick glance with Mira.

  “I can see her at the table,” Callaway said slowly. “She and the other three. A lot of laughter, drinking, eating. But she … I see her looking around, and checking the time. Yes, she’s tracking the room, shifting in her chair.”

  “As if she were nervous?” Mira asked.

  “It strikes me that way. I didn’t pay attention at the time. Or I might’ve thought she was nervous to be on a kind of blind date.”

  “Why do you think she was on a blind date?” Eve asked.

  His eyes opened, stared into hers for a moment. “I must’ve heard her say. I honestly don’t—wait, yes, wait. She and the other woman got up. I think they must’ve gone down to the restroom. I can’t be sure, but they left the table, passed right by us at the bar. In fact, I was standing up by then, starting to leave. She bumped into me. Didn’t even apologize. I think she said something to the other woman about it being a blind date.”

  “So, this woman didn’t actually know the man she was with.”

  “I don’t believe so. But I had the sense the two women were friends. Good God, how could she do that to her friend, to someone who trusted her?”

  “Trust is often a weapon,” Eve said. “But we’re not absolutely certain CiCi Way was a source.”

  “You believe she was.” He shook his head as he studied her picture again. “She’s young. The young are often impressionable, easily swayed. Easily used.”

  “Did you see them come back?”

  “I was getting ready to leave, as I said, but Joe stalled me for a few minutes.” He lifted his face to the ceiling, eyes half shut. “I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in nearly a week. I was exhausted. Joe wanted me to stay. His wife was away with the kids, and he wasn’t in the mood to go home to an empty house. But I wanted to get home, just crash for the night. I’d gotten up, yes, that’s right. I was standing, telling Joe I’d see him in the morning, when they came back. Passed the bar again. They had to walk right by to get to their table.”

  He lowered his face, widened his eyes at Eve. “She wasn’t watching where she was going.”

  “No?”

  “It was still crowded, and she was looking around again. She shoved at me. Shoved me out of her way as she went by as if she was in a hurry, and she said something rude. Something like, ‘Move your ass.’ I’d forgotten all about that. I’ve been so wrapped up in what happened to Joe, I’d forgotten about that. I walked to the door as they walked to the table. I know I looked back, she’d been so rude—and she … she took something out of her pocket as she sat down. She reached in her pocket.

  “She’s the one.” He laid his hand over the face in the photo. “She has to be the one.”

  As he spoke, the door opened and Teasdale walked in. She hesitated as she spotted Callaway, then sent Eve a hard stare. “Lieutenant, I need to speak with you a moment. Privately.”

  “We may just have caught a break,” Eve began.

  “I prefer not to have this discussion in front of a civilian.”

  Eve surged to her feet, stomped out.

  “Looks like a power struggle,” Callaway said.

  “You could say so.” Peabody looked up from her computer. “While they’re at it, let’s go over those details again.”

  18

  “I’ve had the parents taken to a safe house. I persuaded them to tell me about a couple incidents in Callaway’s childhood.”

  “Feel free to use them,” Eve told her, “if a door opens. But don’t screw up my timing or the rhythm. We’re working him. He thinks he owns the room. I led him to one of the survivors, tailoring her into the source. He took the bait and ran with it.”

  “Once you take the bait, you’re hooked. Running becomes problematic.”

  “Whatever, he’s adding a lot of details. Too many details.”

  “Pride and pleasure cause people to elaborate as much as guilt.”

  “I’m going to push him on Jeni Curve next. The conflict between you and me gives him the illusion of power. He’s going to pride and pleasure himself right into a cage. So.” Eve hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. “I think you’re a pushy federal shill wrapped in red tape.”

  Teasdale picked a minute piece of lint from her lapel. “I see you as an incompetent, overly aggressive city employee.”

  “That should do it.” Eve opened the door. “It’s still my case.”

  “Not for long. I beg your pardon, Mr. Callaway, but I have strong objections to involving a civilian in this highly sensitive investigation, particularly one with connections to several of the victims.”

  “That connection’s given us CiCi Way, and an angle to push, Agent Teasdale,” Eve reminded her. “You and the HSO are secondary investigators in this matter. You’re basically a consultant yourself until I hear different.”

  Deliberately she turned her back on Teasdale, faced Callaway. “I’d like to move on to the second location.”

  “I wasn’t there.”

  “But you’re familiar with the café, know several of those who were killed or injured. Let’s try the visualization again.”

  “For God’s sake,” Teasdale muttered.

  “Look, Agent, we might get the same line on Curve with this.”

  “Jeni?” Shock registered on Callaway’s face. “You don’t seriously suspect Jeni.”

  “I don’t want to influence your memories here. Let’s just focus on yesterday. You stayed in for lunch?”

  “Actually, I wanted some air, some head-clearing time, so I went out.”

  “Do you remember what time you left the office? The building? If not, we can check logs and discs.”

  “I think it was around twelve-fifteen. Near that time. I grabbed a pita—veggie and cheese, and a ginger ale from a cart about a block from the office. I’m not sure he’d remember me. He was busy.”

  “Where did you go, what did you see? Take your time,” Eve encouraged. “Try to see it again.”

  “I was thinking about Joe. It’s why I wanted the air, and some time to myself—out of the office. Thinking about him, his wife, his kids. I kept remembering how we’d sat at the bar just before … I didn’t want to say anything in front of Nancy, but Joe and I worked together quite a lot on the side. He often needed a little help on projects.”

  “He’d come to you?”

  “I was glad to help.” Callaway brushed that away, as if it didn’t need mentioning. “As I said, he has kids, and that long commute every day. A wife who, understandably, wanted his attention when he was home. Sometimes he had trouble keeping his head in the game—a spat with the wife, the kids acting up.”

  “So he had trouble at home?” Eve asked, all attention.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” But his face clearly did. “But that added pressure, and demands on this time, his attention, so I’d give him some input, another set of eyes, you could say.”

  “I’m sure he appreciated it.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” Callaway said, glancing down in modesty. “I’m sure he’d have done the same for me if I’d needed his help. In any case, I just wanted to walk, so I walked and ate lunch. Nancy’s so emotional right now. She hasn’t been able to get a handle on things. I’m happy to lend a shoulder or take on some extra work, but I needed a break.”

  “I understand. Were you ever in sight of the café?”

  “I walked by it, on the other side of the street. I actually thought about going over, getting a latte, but I didn’t want to deal with the crowd, the noise.
They’re always busy at that hour.”

  “Exactly.” Eve shot Teasdale a look. “You’d know that as you’d had lunch there regularly.”

  “Everybody at the office had, one time or another. I was just walking, trying to settle. I’d nearly gone the other way, to the bar, just to … but I couldn’t.”

  “You were walking,” Eve prompted.

  “Yes.” He stared up at the ceiling. “Just taking the air. It was brisk. Not as cold as today, and it felt good to be out, to be moving. There was so much on my mind. You can’t imagine how many people in the office want to talk about it, ask questions, ask for details.”

  “Because you were there, right there.”

  “Yes. Something I’ll never forget. Even if I could, people in the office, reporters, and of course, the police, ask questions, bring it all back.”

  “Of you especially.” Eve tried to add a note of sympathy. “Steve left early, then Weaver left. But you, you were there almost till it began.”

  “Yes. Just minutes before. I … wait, wait. I saw Carly.”

  “Carly Fisher?”

  “It had to be her, going into the café. The red jacket she wears, with the floral scarf. I caught a glimpse of the jacket and scarf as she went in. I didn’t really register, didn’t really think about it. But now I wonder if that’s another reason I didn’t go in.”

  “You didn’t get along?”

  “No, not that. Carly was very driven, very focused on advancing her career. She’d often pick my brain for an assignment or project. That was fine.” He waved that away, a man burdened, but accepting the weight. “But I wasn’t in the mood yesterday. In fact, I remember now, seeing her made me decide to go back, just close myself into my office. But I saw her, poor Carly. I must’ve been one of the last people to see her alive.”

  “Like Joe.”

  “Yes. This is very upsetting. Could I have some water?”

  “Absolutely.” Eve rose, got a bottle herself and offered it. “Just take your time, Lew. What did you do next?”

  “I might have walked just a little more, then I turned around, and …”

  “You saw something.” Eve leaned toward him. “What did you see?”