Eve stepped closer, concentrating on his hands. “Can’t see the ring from this angle. Play it forward.” She waited, watched him speak briefly to the evening hostess. Watched him being led to his reserved booth. His hands were under the table and out of view when Jamal stepped up to greet him.
“Come on, come on, come on,” Eve urged. “Scratch your nose or something.”
Jamal returned with the bottle of champagne, the flutes. Completed the setup. But when he offered to pour the wine, he was impatiently waved away.
“Freeze image,” Eve ordered, but Roarke already had.
“Increase sector twenty through thirty, fifty percent.”
When Roarke repeated her request, Eve realized the unit was set for his voice command only. Any irritation she might have felt was overpowered by the satisfaction of seeing the ruby ring in full detail. “I want a printout of that.”
“How many?”
“Give me a dozen. And transfer this disc run to my office unit and Peabody’s PPC.”
Peabody opened her mouth, then wisely decided not to ask how a civilian could transfer data to an official unit without pass codes and electronic authorization.
“Let’s see if we can save some time. Peabody, I want you to do ’link calls to the jewelers. Show them the image of the ring. See if we can tag the shop or craftsman who made it. Is there a place she can set up here, for maybe an hour?” Eve asked Roarke.
“Of course.” He contacted his executive assistant on the interoffice communicator. “Ariel, Officer Peabody requires a private workspace. She’ll meet you at main.”
He glanced at Peabody. “Just go out to the main reception this floor. Ariel will take care of it.”
“Great.” And with visions of another sparkling mango in her future, Peabody headed out.
“You’ll want to see the rest of this,” Roarke said, and resumed play at normal speed and range.
On-screen, the killer lined the flutes side by side. He poured a half glass of each, scanning the room as they foamed and bubbled. His hand lifted, hovered over one of the glasses.
“Freeze. Enhance.”
She walked to within inches of the screen and saw clearly the trickle of clear liquid spilling from his hand into the glass. “When I get this bastard, the PA’s going to do fucking cartwheels over this disc. Resume play, same enhancement, quarter speed. There, there, look at that. He’s got a vial palmed in his hand. Premeasured or I’m a monkey’s butt.”
“And I can attest you’re not. Time stamp,” Roarke continued, “shows he’s given himself a few minutes leeway. In case she’s early. He’s filled both glasses now, set the spiked one across the table.”
“Give me full view again. Look at him. Look at his face. Awful damned pleased with himself. A little private toast. Now he makes the call. His partner. Everything’s in place, can’t wait to get home and tell you how it went. We’ll get a lip reader to study this, see how close I am.”
“Here she comes,” Roarke commented.
Moniqua stepped into the lounge. Hesitated. Then her lips curved. “There he is, she’s thinking,” Eve said quietly. “And he’s handsome, just as she hoped he would be. Look, perfect gentleman’s getting up. Takes her hand, a little peck on the knuckles for that romantic touch.
“Champagne? How delightful. Click glasses. Perfect script. You’d hardly notice that predatory look on his face as she drinks if you didn’t know he was a monster. If you didn’t know, in his mind, he’s killing her right now.”
“I’ll never know how you do this. Day after day.” Roarke spoke from behind her now, laying his hands on her shoulders to rub at the knots of tension.
“Because I know, in my mind, I’ll get him. Them. Both of them. They think they’ve covered all the angles, but you never hit them all. There are always mistakes. Little mistakes. He thinks he’s safe, think’s he’s smart. Anybody looking at them would see she’s the one making the moves here. She’s the one sliding closer in the booth, touching his arm, his hair, leaning in. Who’d look at that pretty scene and see rape?”
“It hurts you. Don’t tell me it doesn’t,” he said, and there was an edge in his voice. “You bandage it, but it hurts you.”
“It only makes me work harder to stop him. Oh jeez, there’s Charles and Louise.”
“Is that why you sent Peabody out?”
“I don’t need her distracted, and I’m not thinking about her weird-ass platonic thing with Charles and her weirder-ass sexual one with McNab because it distracts me. What is it, standard seduction plan A: Champagne and caviar?”
“You preferred coffee and red meat as I recall.”
“I’ll take real cow over a bunch of fish eggs any—There! He’s given her a booster. Same little palm deal, new vial. Two doses in her before they get to her place. That’s off. Lab found traces of Whore in the living room glass, Rabbit in the bedroom. But her tox screen didn’t put that much Whore in her system. That’s why she’s not dead.”