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“Yeah, been there, too. How do we find this bastard’s loved one—who died, was killed, went in, got whacked—in the case files of a cop with more than twenty years on the job?”
“He’ll believe or have convinced himself that this person was or is innocent. As Deena was innocent. You might consider that this connection to the killer was abused, injured, raped, killed in or out of prison. Or one who self-terminated after release, or after an attack. I’d start looking for someone who was strangled or smothered. The method was another message. He could have beaten her to death, used a knife, given her an overdose. There are any number of ways to kill a helpless girl. He chose the method.”
“That’s right, that’s exactly right.” Eve narrowed her eyes as she turned it over. “Every detail was planned. Of course he planned the method. Not just because he wanted to see her when he killed her, not just because he wanted to use his hands. Because he had to, to make his point. It’s a good angle. We can narrow it down with that, push on that.”
She thought it through. “They’re having Deena’s memorial on Thursday.”
“There can’t be anything more painful. How is MacMasters holding up?”
“Barely. He’s ready to take the blame, even without knowing about the vid. The killer wasted time there. He asked me how he was supposed to stand it, and I didn’t have an answer. I don’t know what it’s like to have a kid, but I know when the vic’s a kid it’s harder. We all feel that. I don’t know how anyone stands it when it’s their kid.”
“Most rely on the natural order. Children bury their parents, not the other way around. Those of us who do what we do know murder, even death, has no respect for the natural order. This is a burden MacMasters and his wife will never lay down. In time, they’ll live, work, play, make love, laugh, but they won’t ever lay this down.”
“Yeah.” She thought of what Summerset had told her. “That’s what I hear. In any case, the memorial. I think he’ll find a way to be there. I think he’ll need to see the results of his work. He’ll need to see MacMasters grieve and suffer. He’d have to be absolutely sure, wouldn’t he, that he’d done the job? However focused he is, he’s still young. What’s the point of screwing with someone if you don’t see them squirm?”
“I agree. There’s a very high probability that he’ll find a way to attend, or at least find a way to observe MacMasters. The girl was the weapon. MacMasters was the goal.”
“That’s what I think. Thanks for meeting me.”
“I only regret I can’t find an excuse to work right here the rest of the day. It’s a lovely campus. I’ve given some lectures here, and attended a couple of performances, but—”
“Wait. Lectures. Performances—like theater?”
“Yes, they have an excellent theater.”
“And the public can attend this stuff?”
“Of course. They—”
“Wait.” She snapped it this time, and yanked out her ’link. “Dr. Lapkoff.”
“That was very quick.”
“I need a list of every performance, concert, lecture, vid, live, holo—open to the public from April to this past Saturday. Send it to this contact.” She read off the data for her unit at Central.
“I’ll arrange it.”
“Thanks.”
“You know Peach?” Mira asked when Eve clicked off and keyed in another code.
“Huh? Well, sort of. You know her?”
“Yes. Dennis and I are patrons of the university. He taught here for years.”
“He—really? Mr. Mira taught here?”
“You know he was a professor.”
Eve thought of Dennis Mira and his comfortable, misbuttoned cardigans, his kind eyes, charmingly vague demeanor. “Yeah, I guess I never . . .”
“He still gives the occasional course and often lectures. We’re very friendly with Peach and her family.”
“Small world. Jamie.” She turned back to the ’link. “Have you gone to any of the concerts, plays, lectures, whatever at Columbia since April?”
“What?” He had the glassy-eyed look of an e-geek deep in chips. “Yeah, I went to a lecture on e-crime.”
“No, not that. Something Deena would have been into.”
