Page 82 of Random in Death

Peabody solved the issue by wrapping it in one of the disposable napkins. “I’ll give it to McNab,” she said as she slid it into her pocket.

They started the rainy walk back.

“We can confirm approximate height and race. That’s not nothing. Contact the other three friends. It’s doubtful they noticed him at all. Hank barely did and only because he walked up behind him. I’ll add these details and contact Arlie’s group. We could get lucky.”

Her ’link signaled.

“Mira. She’s got a window now. I’m taking it. Try Jenna’s group on it, too,” Eve said, and quickened her pace.

She finger-scooped some of the wet from her hair as she stepped back into Central. Ignoring the elevators, she took the glides to Mira’s level.

Where the dragon waited.

“Dr. Mira will see you now. Don’t you own an umbrella, Lieutenant?”

“Probably.” Eve walked by the admin’s desk, knocked briefly, then walked into Mira’s office.

The NYPSD’s top profiler and shrink sat behind her desk, but stood when Eve walked in.

“You were quick,” Mira began. “And you’ve been out in the rain. I’ll get you a towel.”

“No, I’m fine.”

Maybe a little soggy compared to the soft and sleek that was Mira. She had her mink-colored hair twisted up and back today. It suited the straight lines of the white dress and short black jacket.

Despite Eve’s words, Mira stepped into the adjoining bath on her white shoes with their black cap at the toes, the high, skinny black heels, and came out with a towel.

Eve scrubbed it over her damp hair as Mira moved to the office AutoChef for what Eve knew would be flowery tea in delicate cups.

“Sit,” Mira told her. “I’ve read the file.”

“We have a little more.” To protect the fabric on the blue scoop chair, Eve laid the towel over it before she sat. “EDD nailed him on the security feed. Not his face, not much of him, but the group he merged with to help avoid just that.”

Because it was expected, Eve accepted the tea.

“Peabody and I just talked to two of the group. Only one, so far, noticed the unsub. And only to give us an approximate height. Between five-five and five-seven. And his race. White. He was sure on the race, reasonably sure of approximate height. The only other things he noticed were the cheap baggies, and he says crappy kicks.”

“So he noticed the height and skin color, the pants, the shoes. Nothing else?”

“That’s right, and he wanted to.”

“After the lack of fashion status in the shoes and pants, the rest was beneath notice.”

“That’s our take, yeah.”

Nodding, Mira sipped her tea. “And still nothing to connect the two victims?”

“No.”

“I don’t think you’ll find anything.”

“Neither do I. It’s not who they are. It’s what. Attractive teenage females. They don’t notice him, either.”

“Or if they do, with derision. Or worse? Pity. And he, so clever, so bright, so skilled—”

“Can’t get laid,” Eve finished.

Crossing her excellent legs, Mira nodded again. “An involuntary celibate. The additions of a date-rape drug and the STD bacteria certainly indicate a sexual revenge element. They served no other purpose, but had deep meaning for him, personally. He knew they’d die in minutes, but he gained the satisfaction of knowing he’d dosed and infected them. The use of a needle when a pressure syringe would have been more efficient represents penetration.”

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