Delusion in Death

close to the same age, I suppose.”

“Not with you, particularly.”

“No. She was just the delivery girl.”

“Yeah, just the delivery girl.”

“Do you think that’s why this person—this leader—used her?” Callaway widened his eyes. “She was young, susceptible. No one in particular, if you know what I mean. I imagine manipulating her, and this other woman, this CiCi, would have been easy for someone like him.”

“Like him?”

“As you said.” He turned to Mira. “He’s highly intelligent, organized, charismatic.”

“We could be talking about you,” Eve said.

He laughed, did the same wave away. “That’s flattering, but I don’t think I qualify.”

“That’s just the tip of the profile, isn’t it, Doctor Mira?”

“Yes. I’ve also determined that he’s a loner by nature with sociopathic tendencies. His violence is internal, rigidly suppressed. He uses others to carry out the violence.”

“He doesn’t want to get his hands bloody,” Eve added. “He’s a coward, without the balls to kill face-to- face.”

“I don’t want to tell you your business.” Though his face had gone stony, Callaway spread his hands, all affability. “But it seems to me by staying above the fray, he’s only demonstrating that intelligence. How will you find him if he doesn’t actively participate in the murders, if he keeps himself removed from the actual killings?”

“He’ll make a mistake. They always do. And look at how much more you’ve been able to tell us. We know more about him.”

“You can’t tell a civilian details like that,” Teasdale began.

“Don’t tell me what I can do,” Eve snapped back. “We know his type, his needs. He lives alone. He has no genuine social circle and has never been able to develop or maintain a lasting relationship. He may be, likely is, impotent sexually.”

She tossed that one in, for icing, watched a dull color stain Callaway’s cheeks.

“He works and lives in the area he’s targeted. See, that’s a mistake right there. He should’ve spread out, but he took the easy route, targeting places and people he knew.”

Eve rose now, wandering to the board, thumbs hooked in her front pockets. “No one particularly likes him, and the ones who pay attention see him as a fake, as a user with an inflated sense of entitlement.”

“You said he was charismatic.”

“That may be an overstatement. He adapts, morphs, blends, but he’s weak on social skills. It’s why he hasn’t climbed as high as he feels he deserves in his career. You know the type I’m talking about, Lew. You work with people like that. Then there’s people like your pal Joe. He had the social skills, and a willingness to go the extra mile, so he was making that climb. Slow, but steady. Or Carly Fisher. Bright, young, ambitious—more fast-tracking her way. But this guy? He’s plateaued. He isn’t moving up, getting the credit or the perks he wants. He’s been brooding about it for a long time.”

“Again, this is your area, but I think you’re underestimating him.”

“He’d think that. But the fact is, he’s intelligent, sure. He’s got a good brain, but he uses it more to manipulate and undermine than to produce. He’s lazy. He didn’t even come up with this plan, this agenda. Somebody else had already done all the hard work, already done it. He’s just coattailing.”

Callaway turned aside, but not before Eve saw his jaw twitch, his mouth thin to a scissor blade. “I’m surprised to hear you describe the person who accomplished this as lazy or weak. I’m not sure how you’d describe yourselves as he’s outwitted you.”

“Outwit, hell. This guy’s more of a lucky half-wit. He’s the stupid using the vulnerable, and that’s always full of pitfalls.”

On the broody train, Eve thought as Callaway turned his sulky face back to hers. “How so?”

“Sooner or later, somebody figures out they’re being used, and they turn. And you can count on the fact this guy’s going to bite off more than he can swallow.”

“Chew,” Teasdale corrected automatically.

“You need to swallow after you chew, right?” Eve shrugged it off.

“The asshole’s got delusions of power and glory, but he’s nothing. He’s nobody. Just a cheap copycat.”

“Nobody? The media’s made him a star. No one’s talking about anything or anyone else.”

“For now. That’s how it works. Somebody else’ll come along—probably smarter and more newsworthy, and —” She snapped her fingers. “He’s over.”

“You’re wrong. People will never forget.”

“Come on, Lew. Once they know he’s just some lunatic, worse some religious fanatic lunatic who stumbled onto a formula cooked up by another religious fanatic lunatic, they’ll laugh.”

“I’m afraid they’ll be laughing at you when you try to tie these accomplishments with some doomsday group like Red Horse.”

Eve smiled. “I guess we’ll find out. But it bears out what I said. Outside of this room, I’d bet eight out of ten people never heard of, or have barely heard of Red Horse—and less than that have heard of Guiseppi Menzini. Sure, we have, but it’s our business to dig up arcane data like that. It’s interesting that you know, Lew.”

“Know what?”

“About Red Horse.”

“I don’t, not really. When you brought it up as being tied to this, I remembered hearing the name.”

“But I never mentioned Red Horse.” She sat on the edge of the table, still smiling at him. “We can play the record back if you want.”

“I simply assumed you meant that particular cult.”

“That’s a big assumption, but it’s logical you’d make it.”

“I simply put two and two together, but I fail to see any religious overtones in this.”

“You’re right. There aren’t any. That was your grandfather’s deal. It’s not yours.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I’ve given you all the time I can spare for now.”

“If you try walking out that door, Lew,” Eve said mildly when he turned, “I’m going to stop you. You won’t like it.”

“I came here to do you a favor. I’m done.”

She laughed, not just because she wanted to, but to see that angry color deepen at the sound. “You came here because you’re an idiot. Now you’re under arrest for first-degree murder, a hundred and twenty-seven counts thereof. Agent Teasdale will also charge you with domestic terrorism, but I get first crack. You can take a seat, and we’ll talk this through, or I can cuff you and drag your ass into an interview box. You choose.”

His voice went cold, but the heat burned in his face. “I can only conclude the pressure’s gotten to you, and you’ve lost control of yourself. You can’t arrest me. You’ve got no evidence.”

“You’d be surprised what I have. It’s all about choices, Lew. Your next one is to sit down or try for the door. Personally, I hope you try for the door.”

“I’ll be contacting my attorney, and your superiors. You can count on it.”

“Please,” Teasdale added as he started for the door again.

“Allow me.”

“You’re the guest.”

Teasdale sprang up, fast and quiet. When Callaway tried to push her back, she slid in, fluid as water, used a foot to tangle his, bent her body like a flower on a delicate stalk to turn his own body weight to her advantage. In a kind of pretty, flowing dance she had him on the ground, her knee against his spine, his wrists clamped in her hands.

“Nice moves,” Eve commented.

“Thank you, and thank you for the opportunity.”

“No problem. Peabody, why don’t you assist Agent Teasdale and secure the prisoner in Interview A?”

“I’ll ruin you for this! Every one of you useless bitches.”

“Oh-oh, strong language. Golly, now I’m scared. Haul him out, Peabody. Let’s give him a little time to cool off.”