Saying nothing, Eve got the papers, gave them to Mira.
"Cryptic," Mira said after a few moments of silence. "Incomplete. Wilfred was a meticulous man, in all areas of his life. Yet in their way these are meticulously cryptic."
"Why aren't they named?"
"To help him keep his distance, his objectivity. These are long-term treatments. I would say he didn't want to risk emotional attachment. They're being groomed."
"For?"
"I can't say. But they're being groomed, educated, tested, given the opportunity to explore their personal strengths and skills, improve their weaknesses. Those in the lower percentile are terminated as patients after it's deemed they're unlikely to improve. He sets the bar high. He would."
"What would he need to pull this off?"
"I'm not sure what this is. But he'd need medical and laboratory facilities, rooms or dormitories for the patients, food preparation areas, exercise areas, educational areas. He would want the best. He'd insist on it. If these girls were indeed his patients, he would want them comfortable, stimulated, well treated."
She looked up at Eve. "He would not abuse a child. He would not harm. I don't say this as his friend, Eve. I say this as a criminal profiler. He was a fiercely dedicated doctor."
"Would he conduct experiments outside the law?"
"Yes."
"You don't hesitate on that."
"He would consider the science, the medicine, the benefits and the possibilities more important than law. Often, they are. And on some level, he would consider himself above the law. There was no violence or cruelty in him, but there was arrogance."
"If he was spearheading, or even involved in a project that was grooming-as you said-young girls into what some might consider perfect women, would his son have known?"
"Without question. Their pride in each other-their affection for each other-was genuine and deep."
"The kind of facility you've described, long-term treatment as indicated by the data, the equipment, the security. All of that would cost big."
"I imagine it would."
Eve leaned forward. "Would he agree to meet with ... let's call her a graduate of his project? She was a label to him, a subject-and still he worked with her for several years, watched her progress. If she contacted him at some point after she was placed, would he meet her?"
"His professional instinct would be to refuse, but both his ego and his curiosity would war with that. Medicine is risk, day after day. I think he would have risked this for the satisfaction of seeing one of his own. If indeed she was."
"Wasn't she? Isn't it more likely, given the method of the murder, that he knew her, and she him? She had to get close, had to want to. One stab wound, in the heart. No rage, but control. As he had control over her. A medical instrument as murder weapon, a clean cut. Objective, as he'd been objective."
"Yes." Mira closed her eyes. "Oh God, what has he done?"
EVE SNAGGED PEABODY AT HER DESK IN THE
bull pen. "We're going to spin that wheel. Mira's writing up a vie profile to add weight to what we've got. Then we're pushing for a search warrant."
"I've got nothing that stands out on the financials," Peabody cold her.
"Daughter-in-law, grandkids?"
"Nothing out of line."
"There's money somewhere. There always is. Guy has that many ringers in that many pies, he probably has some secret pies tucked away somewhere. For now, we're going back to the Center, talking to people-admin down."
"Can I wear your new coat?"
"Sure, Peabody."
Peabody's face beamed like the sun. "Really?"