She shuffled some more sheets.
"Here it is. Right here! Stephanie Brill, the girl who died in the bombing at the Grand Central newsstand went to John Jay as well. Her stepmother said she had taken classes there before dropping out. Is it a city school or something?"
"Yes. And think about it. Criminal justice-that would totally jell with where you might find someone obsessed with crime! This is it, Emily. I'll call the squad and Miriam. We need to bring the mothers in tomorrow first thing."
Chapter 64
EMILY AND I WERE at my desk rereading homicide folders and sharing a Red Bull by eight-thirty a.m.
Every once in a while, I looked up from my case file and found myself glancing over at the back of Emily's still shower-wet coppery brown hair. Things were definitely looking up. Now that I'd finally made a much-needed breakthrough, we were back on track.
When I glanced over at her again, I found myself wondering what the line of her bra strap beneath her white blouse would feel like under my finger.
My shenanigans were acting up again apparently. Bad shenanigans.
"What? What is it?" she said, slowly turning and completely busting me. Feds can be pretty crafty, too, apparently.
I shook the empty Red Bull can in my hand without blinking.
"Coffee?" I said.
I had just grabbed a couple of mugs when Miriam came in through the Major Case Unit's battered bullpen door.
"You need to make some calls and stall the morning meeting," I said before she made it to her cramped office. "Did you get my texts?"
"Don't worry. I got your texts," she said, dropping her bag onto her desk. "All eight of them. Tell me something, though. What if this John Jay thing is a spurious connection, Mike? What if nothing comes of it?"
"Then we get drop-kicked off the case as scheduled," I said. "What do we have to lose?"
"I don't know. My next promotion?" Miriam said dismally.
As I left, I knew she was only kidding. My boss was as stand-up as they come. She hadn't once brought up how slowly things were going, despite all the heat she was getting. Which was a lot, considering our squad room was a short elevator ride away from the commissioner's office upstairs.
Emily and I didn't waste a moment getting the rest of the task force up to speed on our newest theory during the morning skull session. Most of the cops coming off the night shift even stayed for the festivities.
"In reviewing the cases, Detective Bennett and I discovered a number of traditional offender personality types that just didn't fit together," Emily said in front of the cluttered case board. "So we decided to look more closely at a link between the victims, and last night, we think we found one."
"What link?" Detective Schaller from Brooklyn North said.
"We're not exactly sure yet," I said, "but it turns out that the Grand Central bombing victim Stephanie Brill went to the John Jay College of Criminal Justice at the same time as the mothers of both the murdered little girl, Angela Cavuto, and the Bronx stabbing victim, Aida Morales."
"The mothers of the victims went to John Jay?" said newbie Detective Terry Brown. "So our guy kills the kids for maybe like a revenge thing or something? That's cold."
Some confused grumbling from the packed room full of cops and Feds followed, but I noticed more than a few thoughtful nods. There weren't many wallflowers in our open-forum meetings. The fact that no one in the room full of dedicated professionals could come up with a glaring reason that my idea was stupid was a good sign. Maybe we were onto something after all.
Spoken too soon, I thought, as a scrub-faced young female ATF field agent, sent in to bolster our Bomb Squad, cleared her throat.
"New York City actually has a college for criminal justice?" she said.
"Gee, pa, those skyscrapers look just like corn silos, don't they?" some NYPD veteran detective from the back of the room chimed in.
"That's enough, people," I said over the chuckles. "I know you're all about as punch drunk-on this as I am. But things are finally coming into focus."
I pointed toward the caseboard at the picture of the cop killed in the Grand Central bombing.
"We all know why we're here. It's time to bring this thing home."
Chapter 65
TWO TEAMS OF MAJOR CASE DETECTIVES were immediately dispatched to the bursar's office at John Jay to go over student records. Emily and I had to stay back for the 9:30 meeting we had set up with the two victims' mothers, Alicia Cavuto and Elaine Morales.
We'd just been notified by security downstairs that the women had arrived, when a tall, gawky woman with a striking resemblance to Caroline Kennedy came into the squad room and headed directly to my desk. Her name was Jessica Cook, and instead of American royalty, she was the cybergeek cop assigned to the task force from the Computer Crimes Unit.
"Mike, Emily, I think I got something on the John Jay lead already," she said. "A nibble, at least. Come and check this out."
We rushed with her across the hallway to Computer Crimes and into her closet-size cubicle. Tacked to the wall above her monitor beside a South Park calendar was a crayon drawing of a racing cop car with the words NYPD MOM on the door.
"I've been busy hitting deeper and deeper serial-killer fan sites ever since I started impersonating some of the names from the David Berkowitz correspondence," Jessica said as we stood in front of her screen. "The worst by far is this feed called DankDungeonNYC. I just got this instant message from a new friend who calls himself Manacle Max after I mentioned I was a John Jay grad."
I read off the screen.
John Jay? U must know the Collector then. What an admirable freak. Always wants the worst. Always pays top dollar.
"This is incredible," Emily said.
"Type in something like 'I haven't seen the Collector in years. What's he up to these days?' " I said.
Jessica put it in and hit enter.
The message spat back a moment later
After he was fired u mean? Nothing was the last I heard, the lucky prick. I wish I was independently wealthy. Enough about him. Let's meet. U said u have atrocious homicide scene shots? So do I. I'll show u mine. U show me urs. LOL!.
"Fired? He worked there!" Emily cried. "He was an employee or a professor at John Jay. Has to be!"
"NYPD Mom to the rescue," I said, giving Jessica a high five.
Chapter 66
BEYOND ENTHUSED FOR THE FIRST TIME since the case began, I sped with Emily back to the squad room. When we turned the corner, the elevator door at the end of the hallway opened.
A wiry male uniform from the HQ security detail downstairs exited with a tall, white woman and a squat Hispanic woman in tow. Both women looked tired and lost, completely grim-faced. I didn't have to read their visitor badges to know they were Mrs. Cavuto and Mrs. Morales.
Emily ushered them into one of the interview rooms as I ran and poked my head into my boss's office.
"Computer Crimes just pulled a lead off a serial killer site that's making John Jay look even better," I called to her. "Some freak let it be known that some other rich freak who liked to collect sick, bloody crime-related shit was working there at some point but got fired. No name yet, but we're about to sit down with the mothers of the two victims to see if they can fill us in."
"What are you waiting for?" Miriam said, lifting her phone. "Get into that interview room and start pumping. I'll tell Brown to start scouring the staff rolls for people who got canned."
I turned off my phone as I entered the interview room, where Emily sat with the distraught mothers. Attractive, stylish, blond Mrs. Cavuto looked like she was taking the loss of her four-year-old daughter fairly well until you picked up on her extremely glassy eyes and sloppily applied makeup. Stocky, in a striped MTA uniform shirt, Mrs. Morales just looked like she wanted to hit someone.