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minimizing the case in the media could enrage him? Drive him to commit more crimes in order to draw more attention to himself?” Greer questioned. “How do you know coming out with a strong and public offensive won’t scare him and flush him out?”
    “I don’t. I don’t know what this guy might do—and neither do you. We need to take the time to try to figure that out. He’s murdered three women that you know of, getting progressively bolder and more flamboyant. He won’t scare easily, I can tell you that. We may eventually be able to draw him into the investigation—he’s sure as hell watching—but we need to maintain tight control and keep our options open.” He turned toward Edwyn Noble. “And the reward is too large. I’d advise you to cut it back to no more than fifty thousand to start.”
    “With all due respect, Agent Quinn,” the lawyer said tightly, “the choice is Mr. Bondurant’s.”
    “Yes, it is, and I’m sure he feels information about his daughter’s murder is worth any price. My reasoning is this, Mr. Noble: People will come forward for a lot less than one hundred fifty thousand. An amount that extraordinary is going to bring in a flood of kooks and money-grubbing opportunists willing to sell their own mothers down the river. Start with fifty. Later we may want to use raising the amount as a strategic move.”
    Noble breathed a measured sigh and pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll need to speak with Peter about this.” He unfolded his long body and walked across the room to a side table with a telephone.
    “We’ve got every reporter in the Twin Cities camped out on the steps of city hall,” the mayor pointed out. “They’re anticipating something more than a simple statement.”
    “That’s their problem,” Quinn said. “You have to think of them as tools rather than guests. They’re not entitled to the details of an ongoing investigation. You called a press conference, you didn’t promise them anything.”
    The mayor’s expression suggested otherwise. Quinn tightened his grip on the fraying threads of his patience.
Play diplomat. Go easy. Don’t lose your cool
. Christ, he was tired of it.
    “Did you?”
    Grace Noble looked to Sabin. “We had hoped to have a composite sketch… .”
    Sabin cut a nasty look at Kate. “Our witness is being less than cooperative.”
    “Our witness is a scared kid who saw a psychopath set fire to a headless corpse,” Kate said sharply. “The last thing on her mind is accommodating your timetable … sir.”
    “She got a good look at the guy?” Quinn asked.
    Kate spread her hands. “She says she saw him. She’s tired, she’s afraid, she’s angry—and rightfully so—at the treatment she’s been given. Those factors tend not to create a spirit of cooperation.”
    Sabin began to position himself for rebuttal. Quinn blocked the argument. “Bottom line: We have no composite.”
    “We have no composite,” Kate said.
    “Then don’t bring it up,” Quinn said, turning back to the mayor. “Divert their attention to something else. Give them a photograph of Jillian Bondurant and one of her car and make an appeal for people to call the hotline if they’ve seen either one since Friday evening. Don’t talk about the witness. Your first concern here has to be with how your actions and reactions will be perceived by the killer, not how they’ll be perceived by the media.”
    Grace Noble pulled in a deep breath. “Agent Quinn—”
    “I don’t normally come into a case this early on,” he interrupted, the control slipping a little more. “But since I’m here, I want to do everything I can to help defuse the situation and bring a swift and satisfactory conclusion to the investigation. That means advising you all on proactive investigative strategies and how to handle the case in the press. You don’t have to listen to me, but I’m drawing on a wealth of past experience. The director of the FBI personally chose me for