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“We go in the front, pass the main stairs, to the right and straight to the basement access door. It’s going to be locked. If the master doesn’t work, we use the battering ram or”—she glanced at Roarke—“other means. If Feeney picks up images down there, we follow his lead. Otherwise, Peabody, Baxter, Trueheart, take this sector. Roarke and I this one. One of you sees a mouse riveting, everybody hears about it. We clear sector by sector. If a door’s locked, take it down. Call for backup if you need it.”
She toggled to the exterior view. “Locations of cams are highlighted. I don’t see anybody watching them this time of night. But there are very likely cams down there not on the blueprints.”
Think like him, she ordered herself. Not like a frantic old woman.
“He’d want to watch her, and want his area secured in and out. Can’t have somebody stumbling across her, and can’t let her find a way out. If Renicki and Jacobson lock him down, they can work him for more information—but we won’t count on getting it. We’ll bring in the others, and we’ll go through every inch of that basement.
“Feeney,” she said into her mic, “give me the word.”
“Got nothing in the suspect’s place. Got two in the other apartment. Everything else aboveground is clear. Got nothing for you in the basement, but there are voids down there, Dall
as, either due to the thickness of walls, jammers, or sensor blocks.”
“Tucks them up tight,” she murmured. “Give me the location of the voids.”
She keyed them in, felt the adrenaline begin to pump. “We hit those first. If he’s not upstairs and didn’t go for a goddamn walk, he’s down there with her now. We’re green. All teams, we’re green. Move.”
She jumped out of the back of the transport, weapon out. She prayed she hadn’t missed a deeper level of security, prayed he wasn’t monitoring the cameras as she used her master to access the main door.
Cops spread out to the exits, up the stairs, moving quick and quiet while she and her team rushed to the basement door.
“Master’s ineffective.”
“Give me a minute,” Roarke told her. “Battering rams are crude, and they’re noisy.”
She stepped back to give him room, mentally checking off each exit as her men reported them secure.
When Roarke’s clever tools and fingers unlocked the door, she signaled to Peabody. “High and left,” she told her, “then straight down.”
She went in low and right—and knew immediately her instincts had been on target.
Lights burned in the ceiling, dim but activated. The old metal stairs led down to a concrete floor, thick walls, narrow corridors.
She signaled Peabody to lead her team, then set off in the opposite direction with Roarke.
They passed through a cavernous room piled with old furniture, lamps, fabrics, down another dim corridor. She heard the clink and hum of the building mechanicals as they moved through a utility area where tools were neatly stored on freestanding shelves.
“This area needs to be maintained,” she said quietly, sweeping with her weapon as Roarke did the same with the one he’d slipped out of his pocket. “Wherever he keeps them has to be soundproofed and fully secured.”
“This sector’s void’s west. Down that way.”
Eve started to turn, then went into a crouch, weapon up. Her muscles trembled as the ballerina blocked her way.
“I can’t get out,” the woman said and held out her hands. “We can’t get out. Can you help me?”
“You have to wait.”
“Eve?”
“It’s Vanessa Warwich.” Eve fought off shudders as her skin shivered from the sudden cold. “You have to wait a little longer.”
“I couldn’t dance anymore.” She lifted her sparkling white skirt. “He cried when he killed me.” She touched her fingers to the gaping slice across her throat. “But I couldn’t dance anymore.”
“Just wait.” And gritting her teeth, Eve walked through the pleading woman. She reached out to try to balance herself when her head spun.
Roarke grabbed her, braced her. “Bloody hell. Stay here.”
“I have to finish it. You know I have to finish it. I have to make it stop.” She glanced back and into Vanessa Warwich’s eyes but saw the others behind her. All the pretty girls in their sparkling skirts and toe shoes.
