Page 112 of Random in Death

He rose and walked aside with Eve.

“The kid?”

“Got lucky. She’s going to be fine. Got anything?”

“Plenty who heard the commotion and were pretty pissed about it. I talked to a couple of groups who were already seated and close enough to see the popcorn fly. One close enough the fizzy she dropped splatted over his new airboots. He was pissed at that, then he realized she was screaming somebody stabbed her, and thought the fizzy was her blood. Half passed out.”

When he scanned the theater, Eve knew he did a head count just as she had on entering.

“Plenty who saw the trench coat fly by, but—”

“Descriptions vary.”

“Oh, they do.” Baxter let out a sigh. “They do.”

“Trueheart has a good lead.”

“My boy hit?”

“He’s got another I’m going to push on Yancy. When you finish this group, move into theater one with Peabody. Trueheart can handle the rest of these. If McNab’s freed up, I’ll toss him in here or there, depending. Once you’re clear, go home. You can write it up in the morning.”

“Tonight, tomorrow.” He shrugged. “I’ve got the time. I was on a date, about to seal the deal.” He laid a hand on his heart. “The personal sacrifices we make in the pursuit of justice.”

“Huh. I was told shortly ago that all cops are assholes.”

“Sometimes you need an asshole to pursue justice.”

“That’s a good one,” Eve decided, and went to hunt up her e-geeks.

She found McNab popping out of the elevator.

“We got some pieces of him, Dallas. Out on line, then in bolting from the emergency exit. Even bolting, he kept his head down. More of his hair though. Medium brown in a boarder’s do.”

“What is that?”

“Airboarder’s do. It’s not especially in now. Long in the front, sort of diagonal.” McNab swiped the flat of his hand from his left temple, across his eyes to the bottom of his right ear. “Shorter on the sides. In the back, you can go for a stub tail, but his is loose, just past collar length.”

“It’s going to be a wig.”

“Hey, you know, I wondered.”

“Why?”

“Well, on the bolt, we did a freeze, and it looked a little—Roarke called it askew.”

“He ran into some people. That could cause askew. Shades?”

“Can’t tell you on the flight, but pretty sure affirmative on entry. Light gray trench, and—Roarke again—pristine. The black baggies and Kick Its. Kept his hands in his pockets on line, really worked on looking chill.

“He’d sidestep every few minutes. A lot do—is it moving yet, how many more in front of me? But he was scoping for his target. The vic and her group were about six feet ahead of him.”

“Lobby cams?”

“Plenty of blank spots there, and he stayed inside the pack, the crowd. We can see him moving and maneuvering until he’s directly behind the vic and her group. But there’s no decent angle on him.”

McNab did a long scan of the lobby and the cameras. “He’s been in here before, knew the layout.”

“Yeah, he does his homework. Give Trueheart a hand in three. Baxter’s with Peabody. I’ve got two wits, maybe three with one from the first murder. Trueheart has one, Peabody has one who all saw pieces of him again. I’m setting them up with Yancy. It wouldn’t hurt to find a few more.”