She turned to Roarke. “I’m going to have his electronics from the lab brought in, and every single device from this house. Maybe you want to give Feeney a hand with all that.”
“I would, yes. An entertaining evening for me, I expect.”
“Yeah, a geek party.”
“Sorry, boss.” Reineke stepped in. “We got a safe in the bedroom back here, the one Dawber used. Feeney said Roarke could probably get into it quicker than he could.”
“More fun for me.”
“The other thing. Guy’s got Spider-Man pajamas. Four pairs of Spider-Man pajamas.”
“Spider-Man?”
“You know, Loo, the Amazing Spider-Man. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”
“I know who it is because—” She jerked a thumb at Roarke. “Kid size?”
“Nope. For himself.”
“According to the police report, that’s what he was wearing when they found him.”
“Bowlful of nuts,” Reineke said as he went out again.
Roarke gave Eve a light rub on the shoulder. “I’ll go have my fun.”
“Do that. I want to get to Covino, get her statement so we can send her home.”
“Let me know when you leave. I’ll stick with Feeney and company.”
Eve nodded absently as Roarke left the room.
“Maybe we give Dawber a round tonight. I want Mira in the box with us on this one. We’ll keep Reo on tap, but I don’t think we’ll need her right off.”
“Because?” Peabody wondered.
“Is he going to lawyer up? We’ll see. But look how smart he is—how smart he thinks he is. How careful, how attentive to details. I’m betting we find contingency plans on the comps. Plan A goes wrong—not because he screwed up, not that, because it’s never going to be his fault—but the target changed some element on the target date. He’d factor the variables.”
“Okay.”
“Jesus, Peabody, open up.” Eve gestured to encompass the room. “So he’s crazy, and he’s got some nasty little five-year-old demon inside him. But you can’t look at all this and conclude he doesn’t know right from wrong. Insanity defense? That’s a legal deal, and we’re going to rip that to shreds with all this. He knew exactly what he was doing, how he intended to do it. He had six women—so far—as targets, and disposed of them when they didn’t fit his criteria.
“The why he did it? Yeah, that’s the crazy. But it’s not going to be enough, even if the shrinks and the courts give him the insanity, we’re going to make damn sure he’s held responsible. No five or ten years of treatment and therapy, and he’s all good to go again.”
She saw her way, saw some angles. “Let’s go talk to Covino.”
As they started out, Jamie came running, an evidence bag in his hand.
“Man oh man, Roarke cut through that safe like a katana. Just swipe, slash. I gotta learn how to do that.”
Ignoring the intern’s dazzle over the skills of a former thief, Eve pointed to the bag. “Is that for me?”
“Reineke said to get it to you asap. It’s a letter from Dawber’s bio mom, dated a couple days before she self-terminated. Bunch of paperwork and docs in there, too. Deed to the house, bank accounts, tax stuff. He said they’ll bring it in, but you’d want this now.”
“He’d be right.” She took the bag and the handwritten pages inside.
“You should’ve seen it. I mean, it’s like he had the combination in his head.”
“I bet. Tell Reineke to call in the sweepers, and that Baxter and Trueheart are coming in to help with the search. I’ll send Jenkinson back once I get to Central. I want all the e’s taken in, and Feeney needs to send someone—ask for Callendar—to get Dawber’s work e’s from the lab. You got all that?”
“Yes, sir, I got it. This night rocks up and down and sideways.”
As he took off at a run, Eve passed the evidence bag to Peabody.
“Take it out, read it out loud on the way. Let’s see what Mommy had to say.”
“I did a quick walk-through of the house,” Peabody told her. “Looks like he used the kitchen in the basement, not the really mag one on the main level. And only used the two bedrooms—one for his office, the other for sleeping. Mostly the house is empty.”
“He had other things on his mind, no time or interest in furnishing, or really living in this place. Read.”