“Why walk in cake when you can eat it?” Eve queried, then lowered her flash after the lights snapped on.
“Trueheart, do a three-sixty record of this room before anybody touches anything.” When he didn’t respond, she turned toward him. He stood, staring at the droid.
“Detective Trueheart.”
“Sir. Sorry. I was just … It’s going to come out. How’s she going to feel when it comes out he used her to do all this? She’s probably a nice person, and it’s her own nephew. How’s she going to feel when all this comes out?”
“She’ll have to accept it had nothing to do with her. She’s as much an object to him as the stuff on those shelves. Get the three-sixty.”
As he did, Eve walked to the display table. He’d designed it in sections, with room for more. And had brass plates made. Every section, filled with shiny, glittery things, bore a name.
Rosa, Lori, Daphne, Miko.
Curious, she opened a drawer, found a collection of other plates, recognized several names of women on the list they’d created.
Future victims, she thought. Safe from him now.
“Dallas. Special little table over here.”
Eve crossed to Olsen. Under the glass top of a small, ornate table, one polished to a high gloss, a few pieces of jewelry rested on deep blue velvet. A single earring, a slim bangle bracelet, a pair of small hoop earrings, a necklace formed with multicolored beads.
“This is the sort of jewelry I can afford,” Olsen pointed out. “Everyday stuff—and the necklace is like something a clever kid might make. Like for his or her mother for a birthday or Mother’s Day.”
“Hers, the aunt’s. Maybe things he pocketed, during visits, things she’d think she lost or misplaced. Just a few tokens, probably from his childhood.”
“That’s my take. I recognize some of the things on the shelves from the stolen items, the insurance photos and descriptions.”
“And here’s a little dresser full of women’s fancy underwear.” Baxter gestured to a drawer he’d opened. “All labeled and organized. Got those little sachets in here with them.” He took one out, sniffed. “Nice.”
“You can bet that’ll be the aunt’s signature scent.” Peabody walked over to look. “And it’ll match the fancy perfume atomizer he’s got in the wardrobe area. All the cocktail dresses and shoes and bags on our list, Dallas. Along with perfume, a fancy hand mirror and brush set, a case of high-end droid cleaner.”
“Make sure it goes on the record.” She moved beyond the little table. “His dressing area. Let’s back up the record here, make sure we get it all. Costumes, makeup, work counter, wigs.”
“It’s a pro setup,” Peabody said. “It’s almost as good as the one at the studio. That tub there? It’s what they use for making prosthetics, like noses and—”
“Devil horns?” Eve suggested.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s pull in the sweepers. He’ll have had whatever he wore during the attacks cleaned, but there may be trace, may be blood.” As she spoke, she stepped over to a long black coat with a hood. “Give me the UV light from the kit. I can fucking smell blood on this.”
Peabody dug it out, switched it on. “Holy shit,” she said as the black coat lit up with spatters and smears of harsh purple.
“Didn’t get it cleaned yet. Busy boy. Tag it, bag it for the sweepers. I want this into the lab and tested asap.”
“Dallas?” McNab gestured her over to the droid. “She was programmed to respond only to Knightly’s voice and command. Pretty simple bypass. You can ask her questions now.”
“What is your name?”
The droid smiled. “I’m Astra. I’m so happy to see you, Kyle. I missed you, Kyle.”
“It’s the bypass,” McNab explained.
“When were you programmed?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Who programmed you?”
“I don’t understand. Do you need to punish me?”
Eve took a breath. “Who do you belong to?”
“I belong to Kyle. Only to Kyle. Do you want to fuck me now?” The droid rubbed her hands over her breasts. “I want you, Kyle. You’re the only one I want. You’re the best I’ve ever had. Tie me up, Kyle. Make me scream. Make me—”
“Enough. Shut her down, McNab, and start on the comps.”
She turned away, noticed Trueheart wasn’t blushing. Instead his eyes were hard as flint, all cop.
“All right, boys and girls, let’s see what else we can find so we can all eat cake.”
By the time they’d finished, Peabody chugged the water from the tubes McNab passed out. “This has to set a record for us. Most evidence ever bagged. Logging it’s going to take hours.”
“Won’t that be fun for some bored drone?” Eve glanced at her comm. “Knightly is booked—on the assaulting an officer charge—and already talking to his lawyer.”
“Not a lawyer in the history of lawyers who could spin this one,” Olsen said.
“They’ll try to make a case for insanity. We’re not going to let them. Baxter, I’ll get you and Trueheart back to your ride.”
“Don’t worry about it, boss. Trueheart’s got a buddy who’ll run us back to my baby in a black-and-white.”