“Can we give Baxter the bloater, cooking in his cat-infested apartment for eight days? I owe him some payback.”
“Fine with me.”
“Then it’s all worth it.”
She left them for her office. Yeah, the new guy not only slid right in, she thought. He fit like he’d been there for years.
She considered a moment, then engaged her ’link.
“This is Nadine, make it quick. I’m in a production meeting.”
“You’re going to want to step out for a minute.”
A flicker of annoyance came first, then cleared. “I’ve got to take this. Keep going.”
Eve waited while Nadine walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. “Tell me you made an arrest.”
“We made an arrest. Wait. There’s going to be a statement and a media conference within the hour. I’m giving you a heads up on it. The data you dug up for me helped.”
“Give me a name, give me the official charges.”
“I’m not going to do that, Nadine. You know I can’t. What you can do is get on air, do your breaking news thing. According to a source within the NYPSD, police have arrested and charged a suspect in the mass murders committed at On the Rocks and Cafe West. An official statement is imminent. Details to follow or whatever.”
“You’re going to start writing my copy now?”
“It’s the best I can do for you. Don’t ask me for the one-on-one right now. I’ll just say no because I’m fucking tired; I want to tie this up and go home. Ask me later.”
“Was he acting alone? Give me that?”
“At this time, we have no reason to believe otherwise. He confessed. That’s big, Nadine. We apprehended, arrested, and charged an individual, and said individual confessed to perpetrating the incidents that led to the deaths of a hundred and twenty-seven people. You’re going to want to postpone that meeting, get this out, and get your camera-ready ass to Central.”
“You can bet your mass-murderer-catching ass I will. Talk later.”
“A lot later,” Eve added when the screen went blank.
She hadn’t lied about being tired, she thought. Now that it was done, every ounce of fatigue she’d shoved back since walking into On the Rocks wanted to push through and drop her like a stone.
It just had to wait, she decided. She wanted to write up the arrest report personally. And first, she wanted a look at the journals and papers the search team had secured and logged in.
She unsealed the box, initialed it, then sat to study the memorabilia of madness.
The religious rantings in the journal simply annoyed her. The way those thirsty for power, glory or the satisfaction of brow-beating others into their particular beliefs used God as a weapon of intimidation and fear perplexed her.
Not that they’d do it, but that anybody would listen.
If God actually took the time to go around smiting anyone, she’d like to see him start with the self-righteous pricks who inflated their own egos in his name.
But she supposed that was why God made cops.
Menzini had filled pages in tiny, crablike handwriting, pontificating about the chosen, detailing the ritual rapes of young girls, and calling them initiations or cleansings.
He rambled about his God-given mission to purge the unclean, sinners, the unworthy, his holy mission to prepare the way for the end of days. And his plans to repopulate the earth with the righteous after the purge.
He detailed his experiments, his frustrations with his lack of success. One lack of success had resulted in an explosion that had killed one assistant and blinded another.
That, too, was apparently God’s fault—or his will, anyway. And a test directed at Menzini, to help forge his determination.
“Yeah, it’s all about you, asshole.”
She glanced up when Peabody stepped in.
“I just got to the part where Menzini’s praising God for showing him the way to create the substance. He tested it on some prisoners, which included a sixteen-year-old boy. He dubbed the substance God’s Wrath, and was damn proud of it.”
“Sounds like Callaway came by it naturally. Jesus.” Horror covered Peabody’s face as it reddened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t bother me. He has this in him, but we’ve all got something. Even some daisy-sniffing Free-Ager like you has to have a rotted branch on the family tree somewhere. It’s what we do with it, about it, despite it.”
“Yeah.” Peabody blew out a breath. “I don’t sniff daisies. They don’t really smell. I like peonies, if you’re taking notes on flowers to send me for a reward.”
“Sure, I’ll mark that right down on my shopping list.”
“You don’t have a shopping list.”
“Exactly. Did Callaway tap a lawyer?”
“Not yet. He clammed up, like total lockdown. He gave me a bad feeling, so I put him in solitary, and on suicide watch.”
“Good. We want him safe and secure. Whitney, or likely Tibble will be making an official statement. We’re expected to do the media conference deal.”
“I don’t mind. It’ll be good to let people know it’s okay, we did the job. McNab’s working on decrypting Callaway’s electronics. I’m going to wait for him before knocking off anyway. The search team’s back,” she added. “There’s talk about going out for some brew.”
“I’m going to skip it. I just want to … enjoy an evening at home.”
“If you change your mind, they’re hitting the Blue Line. Cops might as well celebrate a big win at a cop bar. Do you want me to do the five’s?”
Tempting … but no. “I’m going to start on it now. Go ahead and get the records for Reo, and a copy of the log of everything taken from Callaway’s apartment. We’re going to want to send somebody in—with correct authorization—to confiscate his office electronics, toss his office.”
“I can tell Reo to take care of that.”
“That works. For now, get a uniform to get over there, seal it. Once the news hits, some big nose is bound to go in there and poke around.”
“I’m all over it. You know, it feels good, Dallas, but …” With a sad little shrug, Peabody looked down at the papers on Eve’s desk.
“You wished it felt better. I’m betting there’s a hit list on his comp, where he planned to target, who he’d earmarked to take out. Once you read that, think about all those people who can just go on living their lives, it will feel better.”
“Yeah. You know, thinking about that, it already does.”
“Then get out of here so I can work.”
She slogged her way through the arrest report, copied, filed, added it to her book. She considered the other journals. Not exactly light reading, she thought, but she wanted to know, to see.
She rose, intended to give herself a lift with another hit of coffee, and turned back to her signaling ’link.
“You’re to report to the main media room, Lieutenant, along with Detective Peabody and any other officer you deem appropriate.”
“On my way.”
Coffee later, she promised herself. Better a nice cool glass of wine, or two. And that so much sex.
Then sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.
She stood, scanned the bullpen. “Good work, all around. That includes Detectives Carmichael and Sanchez, and the other officers who took on the load so we could bag this fucker. Anyone who wants or needs some personal time or leave … Get real. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
She appreciated the moans, the muttered curses. “Commander Whitney’s called for a media conference.” She appreciated the mild panic, the hunched shoulders as perfectly sane cops slid down in their chairs as if it would
