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“Oh, it would have to. His only surviving parent, and the one who saw to his needs for most of his life, is locked away. Much of his wealth confiscated. And as you said, his father’s arrest, the repercussion of that, closely coincided with the breakup with Detective Coltraine.”
“He had a real bad week, I bet.”
“He’d have to be angry, feel betrayed, deserted. Again. His mother left him, now his father’s taken, and the woman he loves—or is intimately connected to—leaves.”
“A careful man could bide his time.”
“Yes, a careful man could. But—”
“Damn it. I knew it.”
“There’s no intimacy in the killing. No passion, no retribution. It’s cold, calculated, distant. She belonged to him, in a very real sense. Either just as a woman or as a woman and as a resource. If that sense of betrayal and that anger—even cold and controlled—led him to kill her, I’d expect to see some sign.”
Mira sipped her tea, shifted. “Could he resist hurting her, taking more time? Certainly a man with his profile would be much more apt to choose a safer place for the kill. Still, using her own weapon is personal, even intimate. It’s insulting.”
“He hired it out.”
“Much more likely, in my opinion. A careful man, used to protecting himself and his interests. A hired kill staged to look like a personal one. Sending the weapon back, to you, with a personal message? Again conflicting meanings. A careful man would have left, or ordered the weapon left on the scene. If not, then would have disposed of it. Sending it back, that’s a taunt.”
“It’s an I-dare-your-ass. The killer was proud of his work, and wanted to get that last lick in.”
“Yes. Tell me, was she in love with Morris? You’d know.”
“Yeah. I think she was.”
Mira sighed. “Only more painful for him. But if she was in love with Morris, I don’t believe she’d have betrayed him. It doesn’t fit her. If she’d ended the relationship with Alex Ricker, and found
someone else, she wouldn’t betray it.”
“Which gives Ricker another motive. If their personal relationship was dead, how about their business one? If they’d had one.”
“I’d say, if there was one, they were tied together. Why would she risk it?”
“Maybe he didn’t give her a choice. I want her to be clean.”
Mira reached out to touch Eve’s arm. “Yes, I know you do. So do I. It’s painful to see a friend in pain.”
“He trusts me to do the job, but I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me if doing it proves her dirty. It pisses me off I have to care about that. I wouldn’t have to care if . . .”
“You didn’t care.”
“That’s the bitch.” She pushed up. “Thanks.”
“Anything you need on this, anytime. I’ve cleared it.”
Eve stepped out, started back to Homicide. To do whatever the job demanded.
9
THE PROBLEM WITH BEING THE SON OF A NOTORIOUS criminal was that it was a lot easier for cops to obtain search warrants. With one in hand, and a small battalion of cops behind her, Eve entered Alex Ricker’s penthouse for the second time.
The fact that he had a trio of lawyers with him didn’t surprise her. The head guy, who identified himself as Henry Proctor, gave off the impression of elder statesman with his flow of white hair, craggy face, conservative dark suit. She imagined his rich, baritone voice had echoed through many courtrooms, sculpting the law like a chisel on marble to defend his high-collar clients.
“My client is fully prepared to cooperate with the police in this matter, to the letter of the law.”
“You can read this letter of the law.” Eve offered the warrant. “We’re authorized to search the premises, and to confiscate and examine all data and communication devices, including portables and personals.”
“One of Mr. Ricker’s legal counsel or staff will observe every level of the execution of the warrant. Which will be conducted on record. Mr. Ricker will also exercise his right to record the search and confiscation. He will make no statement, and will not be questioned at this time.”
