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“Yeah.”
“That’s about what her skull looked like. The MTs got to her fast, and they did a heroic job, but she’d lost a lot of blood before they responded. Her skull’s fractured, Lieutenant, and the damage is severe. There were bone splinters in her brain. The chances of her regaining consciousness, even for a few minutes, are slim to none. The odds of her being able to speak, have a coherent thought, motor functions—should that miracle occur?” He shook his head.
“I’m told she sprayed the guy,” he added.
“There was a container of mugger spray on-scene,” Eve confirmed. “The siren engaged. It was identified as belonging to her. My take is she got him; otherwise, he’d have finished what he started. I’m betting she got his eyes.”
“I’ve put the word out. Anybody comes in this ER, or any other facility I’ve been able to reach with the symptoms, we’ll send up a flag.”
“That’s helpful, thanks. Any change in her condition, one way or the other, I’d appreciate it if you’d contact me. Peabody? You got a card?”
“Yes, sir.”
“One more thing,” Eve said when he’d slipped it into his pocket. “You have much call to use this anymore?” She offered him a shard of plaster.
“Haven’t used this since my intern days,” he said, turning it over in his hand. “Still see it now and then, depending on the injury and the insurance. Plaster’s cheaper than the skin casts used more habitually now. A break takes longer to heal, and the cast’s cumbersome, uncomfortable. More likely to see these on low-income patients.”
“Where do you get it, the stuff you make it from?”
“Medical supply company, I imagine. Hell, probably pick some up at a higher end rehab place, for people who want the old stuff, want authentic plasterwork.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Appreciate it.”
“Medical supplies or building supplies?” Peabody asked as they walked out.
“I want both. Cash sales. He won’t want a paper trail. And I’m betting there aren’t that many cash sales for this sort of thing. Small amounts, self-pickup. Delivery means he had to give an address. He walked in and bought this, paid cash, walked out. Run building supplies first,” she decided. “Any Joe Blow can walk into one of them and nobody notices. That’s his first choice.”
She checked the time as she slid into the car. “Briefing in one hour. When we’re done, we’re going shopping.”
She walked into her office and wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or amused to see Nadine Furst sitting at her desk enjoying a cup of coffee and a tiny muffin.
“Don’t snap and snarl. I brought you doughnuts.”
“What kind of doughnuts?”
“Cream-filled, sprinkled with colored sugar.” Nadine opened the small bakery box. “Six of them, and they’re all yours, fatso.”
“I like a good bribe. Now get out of my chair.”
She walked to the AutoChef, ordered up coffee. When she turned back Nadine was sitting in her single visitor’s chair, crossing her silky legs.
“I should rephrase. Get out of my office.”
“I thought we’d have breakfast together.” Nadine lifted the minuscule muffin to her lips, and took a bite Eve estimated contained three crumbs. “Dallas, I appreciate your stand on playing favorites, and the bitching and moaning from other members of the Fourth Estate. I’ve backed off. You have to agree.”
“I’m not seeing your back, but with that shirt, I’m seeing a lot of your tits.”
“Pretty, aren’t they? But to remain on track, I’ve respected your stand because you had a point. I know you’ve fed Quinton some information—no more, no less, than you wanted out there. I respect that as well.”
“We’re just loaded with respect this morning.” She took a huge bite of pastry. “Bye-bye now.”
“He hasn’t put it together. He may, especially after I give him a good nudge. He’s bright and he’s eager, but he’s green. As yet, he hasn’t wondered why you’re primary on what is now three seemingly unrelated homicides.”
“Crime is running rampant in our city. Run and hide. Better yet, move to Kansas. And it’s two homicides, Nadine. Marlene Cox isn’t dead yet.”
“Sorry, my information was she wasn’t expected to make it through surgery.”
“She has. Barely.”
