Read Online The Devil's Teardrop by Jeffery Deaver - Free Book Online
Authors: Jeffery Deaver
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ago. And one of the reasons that it’s me who has custody is that I work at home and I don’t do anything that’d endanger them or me. That’s why I only do commercial document work. Now it looks like my wife’s reopening the custody case. She can’t find out about this.”
“Not a single problem in the world, Parker,” Cage reassured him. “You’ll be somebody else. Who d’you want to be?”
“I don’t care if you make me John Doe or Thomas Jefferson as long as I’m not me. Joan’s coming by the house tomorrow morning at ten with some presents for the kids. If she finds out I went off on New Year’s Eve to work on a case . . . it’ll be bad.”
“What’d you tell them?” Lukas asked.
“That a friend of mine was sick and I had to go visit him in the hospital.” He pointed a finger at Cage’s chest. “I hated lying to them. Hated it.”
Recalling his beautiful boy, Lukas said, “We’ll do our best.”
“It’s not a question of best,” Kincaid said to her, easily holding her eye. Which is something very few men could do. “It’s either keep me out of the picture or I’m gone.”
“Then we’ll do it,” she said simply, looking around the room. C. P., Geller and Hardy all nodded.
“All right.” Kincaid took his jacket off, pitched it onto a chair. “Now, what’s the plan?”
Lukas ran through the status of the investigation. Kincaid nodded, not saying anything. She tried to read his face, see if he approved of what she was doing. Wondered if she cared whether he did or not. Then she said, “The mayor’s going on the air soon to make a plea to the shooter. He’s going to suggest that we’ll pay the money to him. Not come right out and say it but hint at it. We’re hoping he’ll contact us. We’ve got the money downstairs in a couple of trace bags. We’ll drop them wherever he wants.”
Cage took over. “Then Tobe here’ll track him back to his hidey-hole. Jerry Baker’s tactical team’s on call. We’ll nail him when he gets back home. Or take him down on the road.”
“How likely is it he’ll go for the cash?”
“We don’t know,” Lukas said. “When you take a look at the note you’ll see the unsub—the guy who got killed—was pretty slow. If his partner, this Digger, is just as dumb he might not go for it.” She was thinking of the criminal psychology she’d learned at the Academy. Slower perps were far more suspicious than intelligent ones. They tended not to improvise even when circumstances changed. Lukas added, “Which means he might just keep on shooting the way he’s been instructed to.”
Cage added, “And we don’t even know if the shooter’ll hear Kennedy’s broadcast. But we just don’t have a single damn lead.”
Lukas noticed Kincaid glance down at the Major Crimes Bulletin. It was about the firebombing of GaryMoss’s house. Bulletins like these described the crime in detail and were used to brief subsequent officers on the specifics of a case. This one mentioned how Moss’s two children had just escaped being burned to death.
Parker Kincaid stared at the bulletin for longer than he seemed to want to, apparently troubled by the stark report of the attempt to murder the family.
The two children of the Subject were able to effectuate an escape from the structure with only minor injuries.
Finally he pushed it away. Looked around the Center, taking in the banks of phones, computers, desks. His eyes ended up on the video monitor displaying the extortion note.
“Can we set up the ready-room someplace else?”
“This is the Crisis Center,” Lukas said, watching him scan the note. “What’s wrong with here?”
“We’re not using most of the space,” Kincaid pointed out. “And hardly any of the equipment.”
Lukas considered this. “Where did you have in mind?”
“Upstairs,” he said absently, still staring at the glowing note. “Let’s go upstairs.”
* * *
Parker walked through the Sci-Crime document lab, looking
“Not a single problem in the world, Parker,” Cage reassured him. “You’ll be somebody else. Who d’you want to be?”
“I don’t care if you make me John Doe or Thomas Jefferson as long as I’m not me. Joan’s coming by the house tomorrow morning at ten with some presents for the kids. If she finds out I went off on New Year’s Eve to work on a case . . . it’ll be bad.”
“What’d you tell them?” Lukas asked.
“That a friend of mine was sick and I had to go visit him in the hospital.” He pointed a finger at Cage’s chest. “I hated lying to them. Hated it.”
Recalling his beautiful boy, Lukas said, “We’ll do our best.”
“It’s not a question of best,” Kincaid said to her, easily holding her eye. Which is something very few men could do. “It’s either keep me out of the picture or I’m gone.”
“Then we’ll do it,” she said simply, looking around the room. C. P., Geller and Hardy all nodded.
“All right.” Kincaid took his jacket off, pitched it onto a chair. “Now, what’s the plan?”
Lukas ran through the status of the investigation. Kincaid nodded, not saying anything. She tried to read his face, see if he approved of what she was doing. Wondered if she cared whether he did or not. Then she said, “The mayor’s going on the air soon to make a plea to the shooter. He’s going to suggest that we’ll pay the money to him. Not come right out and say it but hint at it. We’re hoping he’ll contact us. We’ve got the money downstairs in a couple of trace bags. We’ll drop them wherever he wants.”
Cage took over. “Then Tobe here’ll track him back to his hidey-hole. Jerry Baker’s tactical team’s on call. We’ll nail him when he gets back home. Or take him down on the road.”
“How likely is it he’ll go for the cash?”
“We don’t know,” Lukas said. “When you take a look at the note you’ll see the unsub—the guy who got killed—was pretty slow. If his partner, this Digger, is just as dumb he might not go for it.” She was thinking of the criminal psychology she’d learned at the Academy. Slower perps were far more suspicious than intelligent ones. They tended not to improvise even when circumstances changed. Lukas added, “Which means he might just keep on shooting the way he’s been instructed to.”
Cage added, “And we don’t even know if the shooter’ll hear Kennedy’s broadcast. But we just don’t have a single damn lead.”
Lukas noticed Kincaid glance down at the Major Crimes Bulletin. It was about the firebombing of GaryMoss’s house. Bulletins like these described the crime in detail and were used to brief subsequent officers on the specifics of a case. This one mentioned how Moss’s two children had just escaped being burned to death.
Parker Kincaid stared at the bulletin for longer than he seemed to want to, apparently troubled by the stark report of the attempt to murder the family.
The two children of the Subject were able to effectuate an escape from the structure with only minor injuries.
Finally he pushed it away. Looked around the Center, taking in the banks of phones, computers, desks. His eyes ended up on the video monitor displaying the extortion note.
“Can we set up the ready-room someplace else?”
“This is the Crisis Center,” Lukas said, watching him scan the note. “What’s wrong with here?”
“We’re not using most of the space,” Kincaid pointed out. “And hardly any of the equipment.”
Lukas considered this. “Where did you have in mind?”
“Upstairs,” he said absently, still staring at the glowing note. “Let’s go upstairs.”
* * *
Parker walked through the Sci-Crime document lab, looking
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