Page 120 of Random in Death
“Yes, sir, and it may come to that. I don’t want to bring in federal investigators at this time, take time to read them in, agree on tactics and strategies, because we’re close.
“He’s made mistakes, starting with the first murder. They’re our advantage, Commander, and more so since he doesn’t realize or understand he’s made them. As simple as the shoes,” she began, and ran through it, point by point.
“If anyone can finesse more details from the wits,” Eve finished, “it’s Yancy.”
“We agree there. Private schools, barbers, the shoes. Good angles, logical.” On a pause, he sipped his coffee. “Time-consuming to pursue.”
“Commander, we’re close. We’ve systematically narrowed the gap and will narrow it more today. I know him. I’ve got everything but his face and his name, and we’re close there. Teasdale’s good, she’s solid, but she doesn’t know him. By the time she does, we’ll have him.”
His eyes, always direct, held hers. “All of that’s based largely on your instincts.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve never had a cop under my command with better ones.”
He rose, walked to the windows where the city he protected and served carried on its daily business.
“I’ll give the lab time with the prints, and you time to follow up on these angles. Forty-eight hours. If he kills another girl, that time ends immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What does your gut tell you, Dallas? Will he try again tonight?”
“Yes, sir, I believe he’ll need to.”
Still watching the city, Whitney nodded. “My gut says the same, so you have that time. You have it because the feds can’t do more than you and your team within that window. And you have the momentum.”
He turned back. “Wrap him up, Lieutenant.”
She headed back down, using her ’link to push on the prints, then tagged Feeney.
“Whatever you need, kid,” he said before she could speak.
“I’ve got a long list of private schools, and criteria I’m looking for. If I could send you part of that list.”
“Send it. McNab says the kid from last night’s okay.”
“She is. Whitney gave us forty-eight before bringing in the feds.”
“Yeah.” Feeney sighed, scratched his chin. “That had to be coming.”
“I think he’ll try again tonight, so cut that time down to more like twelve hours.”
“I’ll pull Callendar in on it. Look, send us the whole deal on the schools. You’ve got other angles, right? Work them; we’ll work this.”
“Thanks. The minute I’m back at my desk.”
She clicked off, thought about the wig. Boarder style, brown. One more angle to work.
When she turned into Homicide, Peabody hailed her.
“Kiki’s mom—Connie—tagged me back just a minute ago. She said if we can get to their place after twelve-thirty—just let them know—we can talk to her again. And Kiki wants to work with Yancy. She says Kiki’s pissed, and eager.
“Mom One—Connie—cried just a little because she says that means Kiki’s back. Her girl doesn’t take any crap.”
“Good to hear. Harbough’s memorial’s at noon, so we’ll go after that.”
“Arlie Dillon’s mom said she’d be out all morning, from about nine to about noon. She’s making arrangements. Asked if we could do this while she’s out, and she’ll leave the key with a neighbor. I said we could just master in if that was easier, and she was fine with it.”