“All right then.”
“I’ve got to go, or her scary admin will scold me. I’ll keep you updated.”
“I’ll do the same.”
Not a lie, she told herself. Her professional reasons for pushing him to talk to Mira arrowed straight to those four faces on her board.
If her personal reasons tagged along with that, it didn’t negate the first.
If she felt a little guilty, she’d just have to get over it.
She went straight to Mira’s office, and though she was right on time, earned a scold anyway from Mira’s admin.
“You could have told me you were consulting on one of the commander’s old cases as well as a new one.”
“I didn’t know I would be when we asked for the time.”
“The doctor has cleared her schedule. You’ll have as much time as you need.” The admin tapped her earpiece. “Lieutenant Dallas is here.
“Go right in,” she told Eve.
Mira sat at her desk, her brows knitted as she scanned data on her screen. Her hair, rich and thick as mink, swept in loose waves around her face.
She wore lip dye in a popping pink. Maybe as a tribute to spring, Eve thought, or because it mirrored the color of the blouse under the white (not cream) suit.
Her eyes, a soft, pretty blue, lifted to Eve’s.
“I’m refreshing myself on the Solomen case. Twenty years can blur the memory.”
“Take your time,” Eve said, though she hoped the blur faded fast.
“I assisted on the profile. Clinton Jones, since retired, had this office then. He was very good.”
She rose, walked to the AutoChef on bright white shoes with the toes and high skinny heels in the exact shade as the shirt, as the lips.
It never failed to astound Eve anyone could think just that minutely about clothes.
She expected Mira to program her favored floral-smelling tea, so it surprised Eve to scent coffee. Good coffee.
“I stocked some of your blend,” Mira explained. “I think we both can use it.”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
“Sit. This will be difficult for the commander. I remember how much weight he took on over those three deaths.”
“Solomen was his.”
“Yes.” Mira brought over the coffee in pretty cups, sat in the blue scoop chair facing Eve’s. “And now the man responsible for those deaths is back, and has added another.”
She sipped coffee, crossed her legs. “Let’s start in the present. You seem confident—as I read your notes—you’ll break the husband of this victim.”
“I am confident. He’s weak, arrogant, self-absorbed. And the circumstantial’s already piled up past his ass.”
“He’s an egotist. His wife insulted him by having an affair. It was more about the insult to his ego and manhood than a betrayal. And the person she chose wasn’t in or of the same social and financial strata—another insult. His ego is his dominant trait, and therefore his dominant weakness.”
“It won’t be hard to poke his ego when I have him in the box.”
Mira smiled. “No, you’re good at it. Understand, too, that divorce was never an option for him. Her death protects his ego and his standing—even adds to his standing. Forgiveness or attempting to repair his marriage, simply impossible to consider. She insulted him, may even at some point would have ended the marriage if he attempted repair. She displayed, with the painting, a constant reminder of that insult, that unacceptable possibility. What choice did he have but to eliminate her?”
“At the same time, he’s too weak to confront her.”
“Yes, he is weak,” Mira agreed. “Though he would see that as strategy, even cunning. Her ending the affair changes nothing,” Mira added, sipping her coffee. “Hiring a professional killer? Efficient as he’d see it, and certainly worth the investment, as he would reap all the rewards.”
“Her money, the kid, and the kid’s money—or the authority over that. Her family’s support.”
“All of that, and he can rid himself of the housekeeper and nanny, giving him full emotional control of the child, choose replacements that suit his needs.”
Mira lifted a hand, let it fall. “On the surface, it is cunning, simply poorly executed.”
“He never asked how, specifically, she died, where she was, when he could see her, hasn’t contacted the ME about her. He didn’t even bother to leave the entrance light on as a pretense he expected her home.”
“Poorly executed,” Mira repeated. “He’s done with her, and it’s not in his nature to waste the time and effort. He’ll cede arrangements for her to her family, make the necessary appearances, attempt to demonstrate grief, then move on. His marriage to her was a means to an end, as was the child. Her death is precisely the same.”
“It’s not jealousy or rage. I didn’t get either of those from him last night.”
“No, as they wouldn’t have been there to get. Ego, advancement. His ego has been soothed, and the son is now his key to further advancement.”
She paused for more coffee. “Do you have any idea how he made contact with Cobbe?”
“Not yet. Working on it.”
“Cobbe,” Mira murmured. “Lorcan Cobbe. You can read the initial profile in the Solomen file, so I’ll just touch on it. Evidence indicates Ivan told the truth about the killings, as all were due to knife wounds. Ivan didn’t use sharps. He used his fists or the occasional blunt instrument in his role of enforcer. Though both the wife and son were killed in their beds, each showed defensive wounds—cuts on their hands. The wife and Solomen shared a bed, and she may have awakened when Cobbe and Ivan entered. The ME report indicates bruising around her mouth—a hand clamped over it. Her death came first.”
“Contain the biggest threat—the adult male—with a blow to the head—Ivan. Efficient would have been Cobbe killing the wife simultaneously, before she woke, or fully woke. He opted to let her wake up enough to try to scream before he killed her.
“He wanted her to know.”
“Killing a sleeping woman would be unsatisfying for someone who enjoys killing. We did consider his age, potentially his inexperience, but given what Whitney and Feeney were able to learn of his background, Clinton believed it was the former. I agree.
“The son’s room was on the opposite side of the house, and it’s unlikely he heard anything,” Mira continued. “Yet he was also awake when his throat was slit. Unlike his mother, his death came in degrees. Rather than one slice, several. He suffered, and that suffering was deliberate.”
Eve had seen their faces now, reviewed the crime scene record.
And could see it all, as clearly as she saw Mira sipping coffee in her perfect white suit.
“Ivan had the target under control, the woman was dead, so Cobbe had more time to enjoy killing the boy.”
“Yes. Solomen was brutally beaten over a period of nearly an hour, and also suffered multiple stab wounds. None of the wounds were fatal until the final gut wound—one similar to your current victim’s. Solomen was bound and gagged during the torture, indicating the orders weren’t to get any information, but to punish him, and kill him along with his family. As Ivan was a long-term and loyal employee of Colin Boswell’s, there’s no indication, no evidence Boswell ordered his elimination.”