Page 131 of Brotherhood in Death


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“Are those—they’re locks of hair.”

“Yeah.” Eve’s stomach knotted. “Souvenirs. They’re going to be DNA matches for women he—most likely they—raped.”

“Christ have mercy, Dallas, there are dozens. They have names.”

Eve did a quick count. “Forty-nine. Forty-nine souvenirs. A lot of fuckers can’t resist taking a souvenir. And here’s one marked Charity, there are a couple of Lydias, but only one Charity, only one Carlee spelled the way MacKensie does. First names only, but it’s going to help.”

Frowning, she uncovered a large disc in a clear plastic case.

“Look at the size of that. I’ve never seen one that big.”

Eve turned it under the lights. “I’m guessing it’s old. Maybe as much as forty-nine years old. Handwritten title.”

She turned it over for Reo to read.

“‘The Brotherhood: Year One.’”

“Get that bag, will you, Reo?”

“All right.”

When Reo stepped out, closed the door again, Eve tagged Roarke.

“I’m sorry, I know you’ve got stuff.”

“The amount of which is easing up for the day. What is it?”

“I could use some help. See this?” She held up the disc so it would show on his ’link screen.

“Ah, an antique.”

“Yeah, out of Betz’s bank box in the Bronx.”

“Say that five times fast.” But Roarke didn’t smile, just kept his eyes on hers.

Did it show? she wondered. Did the sickness she felt inside show on her face?

For him it would, she thought. He’d see it.

“Listen, I—”

“Do you need me to come?”

“No, no. I— Can you jury-rig something to play this thing?”

“I can, of course. Are you going home?”

“I’ve got a couple of stops to make, then, yeah. I think I know what’s on here, and... I’d rather be home when I view it than asking Feeney.”

“I can be home in about ninety minutes. Sooner if you need me sooner.”

“Ninety’s great. Thanks. I’m with Reo, and I’ve got a couple things. I’ll fill you in when I see you.”

“You take care of my cop, body and soul.”

“Trying to. See you in ninety.”

She clicked off and stood staring down at the little sealed bags with the locks of hair. Stood staring and fighting off waves of revulsion.

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