She brought up the next. “Clifton, Dak, Detective. Now, he’d use ‘cunt.’ And he’d screw up a tail. He’s cocky, full of himself, and not nearly as good as he thinks he is. Youngest male in the squad, thinks he’s a ladies’ man, and hit on Coltraine. She deflected.”
“Guys hate that.” Nadine cut another piece of French toast. “Killing’s a little extreme, but they hate that.”
“There are elements of anger in the killings,” Mira pointed out. “That need, or that enjoyment, in the close-up kill. The delay in killing Coltraine, so she’d know what was coming. The humiliation again. I would expect from his type to have signs of some sexual abuse. If not actual rape, some molestation. Proving his power over her.”
“He may have done so without leaving a mark, a sign.” Louise considered the data. “Touching her, or verbal abuse. You don’t think it’s him,” she said to Eve. “Why?”
“I’d like it to be him. He’s a prick. But he’s a hothead, with a jacket that lists excessive force, insubordination. Ricker tends to go for smarter, cooler. Then again, he might’ve been all Ricker could get in this case. He’s not out of it, he’s just not top of my list.”
She moved on. “Newman, Josh, Detective. Light touch, takes it easy. Keeps his head down and does the job.”
“He’s not top of your list either.” Mavis stood at the board, a plate in her hand. “It’s the woman.” She ate another bite, turned to where Eve sat. “It’s got to be the woman. She’s the best fit.”
“Why?” Nadine wanted to know.
“Well, jeez, Coltraine might’ve respected her lieutenant, and the old guy. She maybe liked the asshole okay, even if she brushed him back. Because, hey, Morris and she had good taste. Maybe she got on fine with this last guy, too. But she and this one? Only women in the club, right? They’re going to have a different kind of thing. Women say shit to each other and talk about stuff they don’t with penises. Look at us. Sorry,” she said abruptly to Mira. “Stepping on your spot.”
“No, it’s interesting. Your idea is that Cleo Grady killed Coltraine because they were women.”
“I just figure she’d get closer than the others, know more about what the what was when Coltraine was off—you know, the R&R time. Like she’s not going to tell the asshole she’s got her period and wants a hot bath, or the old guy how she’s got the hornies and can’t wait to jump Morris. Like that. This one probably knew all that.”
“And would’ve known, more than the others, that she’d be home alone that night.” Nadine pursed her lips. “Good one, Mavis.”
Mavis grinned, shrugged. “Okay,” she said to Eve, “am I right or am I wrong?”
“You win the Smart Girl Award.”
“Uptown!”
“Grady’s your prime? You could’ve told me,” Peabody complained.
“I didn’t bump her up until this morning. She’s cool-headed, but she’s got something under there that runs hot. There’s the ring. Okay, you take it because you’re playing at making it look like robbery. But you don’t send it back with the badge and weapon. You keep it. A man might do the same, for a trophy. But she likes jewelry—the subtle, classy kind. So it’s an element. Coltraine might’ve told the entire squad she was taking an evening at home alone, but given her type, she was more likely to talk about it with Grady. Plus, she and Grady were working a case together. More opportunity. And the opportunity for Grady to tag her, tell her she had something go hot on the investigation. And Ricker likes using women. He likes using them, hurting them, disposing of them. It’s icing for him to pit one against the other.”
“Sandy.” Peabody set her plate aside and rose to go to the board. “It would be easier for a woman to get close to him. Play on his ego, and he’d have less cause—in his mind—to worry about her, physically.”
“Physically’s a factor though, isn’t it?” Nadine pointed toward Grady’s photo. “Didn’t the killer carry Coltraine to the basement? Or do you think Sandy was there and did the heavy work?”
“Maybe. But she could’ve done it.”
“I carried Dallas down.” Peabody smiled. “We reenacted.”
“Going on the assumption this is your killer, she wouldn’t have wanted him there. Or anyone else there.” Mira gestured with her coffee cup. “Factoring in the theories, this would have been a one-on-one, woman-to-woman. On orders perhaps, but personal.”
“You need more than theories. Sorry.” Reo spread her hands. “You’ve got no probable cause, no witness, nothing putting your suspect at either scene. Unless Rouche worked with her directly, and can give us some chapter and verse—or Ricker gets a wild hair and decides to flip on her for the fun of it—there’s no physical evidence, and no real circumstantial.”
“Crap City.” Mavis plopped her butt on Eve’s desk. “Because all my tinglies are saying the bitch is guilty.”
“Usually it takes more than the tinglies to convict,” Reo pointed out. “First Callendar’s got to come through. Then, given that, Rouche has to spill. I might like the theory, in principle, but from where I’m sitting, you don’t have any more on her than you have on any of them. Which is not anything.”
“Tinglies should count,” Mavis protested. “Besides. Oops!” She slid off the desk. “Bellamina’s awake,” she said tapping the big pink butterfly pinned over her ear. “Cha!”
“Mavis,” Eve called out as Mavis dashed for the door. “Thanks for the input.”
“Hey, us double-X chromos have to stick together.”
“Some of the others are probably stirring by now.” Louise got to her feet. “I’ll gather them up and steer them into the dining room and keep them out of your way.”
“I guess the party’s about over.” Nadine stretched out her legs. “I can do some research, see if I can find anywhere Ricker’s path might’ve crossed with this Cleo Grady’s. They had to connect somewhere. I take it you’ve checked her pockets. It’s unlikely she killed two people for love or the fun factor.”
“I’ve looked at her financials as far as I can without the probable cause to dig deeper. I figure she’s been paid, but I don’t discount the fun factor—or what people like her consider love. Ricker liked younger women.
“It’ll go back, though,” Eve mused. “It won’t be recent, that connection. She didn’t turn up in the sweep after we busted him, but she’s no new recruit. That means she’s got some layers over her, and some time in.”
“If you find me a connection between her and Ricker—something solid—I can use that and her connection to Coltraine. I may be able to finesse a search warrant, and authorization for that deeper dip into financials.” Reo considered it. “If you can get Rouche to say Ricker has someone in Coltraine’s squad. I don’t need a name, just the verification that Ricker has someone inside that unit, I can get the warrants. Maybe IAB—”
“They don’t have anything on her,” Eve told Reo. “I checked.”
“Well, maybe they should look again.”
“I’ll take another look at her file,” Mira said. “And her background data. I’ll work up a more comprehensive profile.”
“I’ll write it up, run probabilities.” Peabody got up to gather empty plates. “While Nadine’s looking for that crossed path with Max Ricker, I can look for one between Grady and Sandy. Maybe he recruited her.”
“Or she recruited him.” Eve ordered more data on-screen—split screen. “Sandy, Grady, Alex Ricker. They’re all about the same age. Yeah, that might be something. Go back ten years, fifteen. College pals. If she was Ricker’s that far back, he might’ve used her to get to Sandy. Let’s—hold it.”
She swiveled back to her ’link. “Dallas.”