"Rolling."
Her face changed. Eve found it interesting to watch. The minute the red light glowed, her features became glossier, more intense. Her voice, which had been brisk and light, slowed and deepened, demanding attention.
"This is Nadine Furst, reporting direct from Lieutenant Eve Dallas's office in the Homicide Division of Cop Central. This exclusive interview centers on the violent and as yet unsolved murders of Prosecutor Cicely Towers and award-winning actor Yvonne Metcalf. Lieutenant, are these murders linked?"
"The evidence indicates that probability. We can confirm from the medical examiner's report that both victims were killed by the same weapon, and by the same hand."
"There's no doubt of that?"
"None. Both women were killed by a thin, smooth-edged blade, nine inches in length, tapered from point to hilt. The point was honed to a V. In both cases, the victims were frontally attacked with one swipe of the weapon across the throat from right to left, and at a slight angle."
Eve picked up a signature pen from her desk, causing Nadine to jerk and blink when she slashed it a fraction of an inch from Nadine's throat. "Like that."
"I see."
"This would have severed the jugular, causing instant and dramatic blood loss, disabling the victim immediately, preventing her from calling for help or defending herself in any way. Death would have occurred within seconds."
"In other words, the killer needed very little time. A frontal attack, Lieutenant. Doesn't that indicate that the victims knew their attacker?"
"Not necessarily, but there is other evidence that leads to the conclusion that the victims knew their attacker, or were expecting to meet someone. The absence of any defense wounds for example. If I came at you…" Eve thrust out with the pen again, and Nadine threw a hand in front of her throat. "You see, it's automatic defense."
"That's interesting," Nadine said and had to school her face before it scowled. "We have the details on the murders themselves, but not on the motive behind them, or the killer. What is it that connects Prosecutor Towers to Yvonne Metcalf?"
"We're investigating several lines of inquiry."
"Prosecutor Towers was killed three weeks ago, Lieutenant, yet you have no suspects?"
"We have no evidence to support an arrest at this time."
"Then you do have suspects?"
"The investigation is proceeding with all possible speed."
"And motive?"
"People kill people, Ms. Furst, for all manner of reasons. They've done so since we crawled out of the muck."
"Biblically speaking," Nadine put in, "murder is the oldest crime."
"You could say it has a long tradition. We may be able to filter out certain undesirable tendencies through genetics, chemical treatments, beta scans, we deter with penal colonies and the absence of freedom. But human nature remains human nature."
"Those basic motives for violence that science is unable to filter: love, hate, greed, envy, anger."
"They separate us from the droids, don't they?"
"And make us susceptible to joy, sorrow, and passion. That's a debate for the scientists and the intellectuals. But which of those motives killed Cicely Towers and Yvonne Metcalf?"
"A person killed them, Ms. Furst. His or her purpose remains unknown."
"You have a psychiatric profile, of course."
"We do," Eve confirmed. "And we will use it and all of the tools at our disposal to find the murderer. I'll find him," Eve said deliberately flicking her eyes toward the camera. "And once the cage door is closed, motive won't matter. Only justice."
"That sounds like a promise, Lieutenant. A personal promise."
"It is."
"The people of New York will depend on you keeping that promise. This is Nadine Furst, reporting for Channel 75." She waited a beat, then nodded. "Not bad, Dallas. Not bad at all. We'll run it again at six and eleven, with the recap at midnight."
"Good. Take a walk, Pete."
The operator shrugged and wandered out of the room.
"Off the record," Eve began. "How much airtime can you give me?"
"For?"
"Exposure. I want plenty of it."
"I figured there was something behind this little gift." Nadine let out a little breath that was nearly a sigh. "I have to say I'm disappointed, Dallas. I never figured you for a camera hound."
"I've got to testify on the Mondell case in a couple of hours. Can you get a camera there?"
"Sure. The Mondell case is small ratings, but it's worth a couple zips. " She pulled her diary out and noted it.
"I've got this thing tonight, too, at the New Astoria. One of those gold plate dinners."
"The Astoria dinner ball, sure." Her smile turned derisive. "I don't work the social beat, Dallas, but I can tell the assignment desk to cue on you. You and Roarke are always good for the gossip eaters. It is you and Roarke, isn't it?"
"I'll let you know where you can catch me over the next couple of days," Eve continued, ignoring the insult. "I'll feed you regular updates to air."
"Fine." Nadine rose. "Maybe you'll trip over the killer on your way to fame and fortune. Got an agent yet?"
For a moment, Eve said nothing, just tapped her fingertips together. "I thought it was your job to fill airtime and guard the public's right to know, not to moralize."
"And I thought it was yours to serve and protect, not to cash in." Nadine snagged up her bag by the strap. "Catch you on the screen, Lieutenant."
"Nadine." Pleased, Eve tipped back in her chair. "You left out one of those basic human motives for violence before. Thrill."
"I'll make a note of it." Nadine wrenched at the door, then let it slip out of her hands. When she turned back, her face was white and shocked under its sheen of camera makeup. "Are you out of your mind? You're bait? You're fucking bait?"
"Pissed you off, didn't it?" Smiling, Eve allowed herself the luxury of propping her feet on the desk. Nadine's reaction had brought the reporter up several notches on Eve's opinion scale. "Thinking about me wanting all that airtime, and getting it, really steamed you. It's going to steam him, too. Can't you hear him, Nadine? 'Look at that lousy cop getting all my press.'"
Nadine came back in and sat down carefully. "You had me. Dallas, I'm not about to tell you how to do your job – "
"Then don't."
"Let me see if I'm figuring this right. You deduce the motive was, at least partially, for the thrill, for the attention in the media. Kill a couple of ordinary citizens, you get press, sure, but not so intense, not so complete."
"Kill two prominent citizens, familiar faces, and the sky's the limit."
"So you make yourself a target."
"It's just a hunch." Thoughtfully, Eve scratched a vague itch on her knee. "It could be that all I'll end up with is a lot of idiotic blips of me on screen."
"Or a knife at your throat."
"Gee, Nadine, I'm going to start to think you care."
"I think I do." She spent a moment studying Eve's face. "I've worked with, around, and through cops for a long time now. You get instincts on who's putting in time and who gives a damn. You know what worries me, Dallas? You give too much of a damn."
"I carry a badge," Eve said soberly and made Nadine laugh.
"Obviously you've been watching too many old videos, too. Well, it's your neck – literally. I'll see to it that you get it exposed."
"Thanks. One more thing," she added when Nadine stood again. "If this theory has weight, then future targets would fall into the well-known, media-hyped female variety. Keep an eye on your own neck, Nadine."
"Jesus." Shuddering, Nadine rubbed fingers over her throat. "Thanks for sharing that, Dallas."
"My pleasure – literally." Eve had time to chuckle between the time the door closed and the call came through from the commander's office.