Jenkinson sent the hopeful look her way. “Don’t suppose you put any of your coffee in here, LT?”
“Up-class the coffee, spoil the cop.” Then she considered what that made her. “Peabody, do that thing you do with the AC.”
“Score.” Reineke pumped a fist in the air. “Jenkinson did the report, so I familiarized myself with the Covino case. You’re thinking she’s this guy’s number three.”
“Lauren Elder,” Eve began. “Last seen May twenty-eighth leaving Arnold’s, a bar, her workplace, approximately zero-two-thirty.”
She read off the details while Peabody continued to set up. She moved to Anna Hobe, then began on Mary Kate Covino when Mira came in.
“I had an opening—not a wide one. Is that your coffee?”
“I appreciate the time. Jenkinson, get Dr. Mira some coffee.”
“Sit, sit.” Mira waved him down. “I have it. Don’t let me interrupt.”
She finished the briefing, filling in the newest data and statements.
“Our only suspect at this time, James Mosebly, fits, but not cleanly. He left home young, then floated around New York, as far as we can tell, for a couple of years before he decided to pursue additional education and a career. Makes me wonder where and how he floated, and that’s a question I’ll ask him.
“His attachment to Covino came off very sincere. She’s important to him. His attachment to his mother is illustrated by shelling out over five and a half million dollars in the last sixteen years of her life for her care and housing. He could have chosen less expensive options for her, but he didn’t.”
“If his mother suffered from dementia as the director alluded,” Mira said, “it would have been painful for him. Possibly traumatic. If she died without remembering him, without being able to say goodbye, mother to son, it may have caused a psychic break.”
“And he’s got a replacement right under his nose,” Eve finished. “But why doesn’t he go for her first? That’s a major hitch for me. Was Elder practice? Doesn’t feel like it.”
Eve paced in front of the board. “Then there’s the timing of her trip. Maybe she didn’t tell him she’d planned—hoped—to stay at the jerk’s place. Maybe. But it feels strange he’d wait until that night, knowing she was planning a trip. Doesn’t quite gel.
“And the clothes. Have you seen what they wore in the late ’70s, early ’80s?”
Jenkinson snorted. “How old do you think I am, boss?”
Mira just laughed. “I’ve seen pictures.”
“The hairstyle, the clothes he used on Elder are twenty years later—fashion-wise. His mother wouldn’t have been in her twenties but her forties by that point. So—”
“You’re talking yourself out of it,” Mira concluded.
“I’m looking at the flaws. Yeah, he’s in the right age group, race. He obviously had a deep attachment to his mother, and some trauma due to her illness—prolonged, it seems—and her death. More, he lives alone, has never married or had a registered cohab. He owns a semidetached townhome.
“Peabody, I have a map. Put it up on-screen.
“Highlighted in red are the residences and workplaces of the three women. Highlighted in yellow are buildings with occupants who fit the parameters.”
“Got a lot that fit,” Jenkinson commented.
“Yeah. And the one in green is Mosebly’s townhome.”
“Convenient,” Reineke commented. “Pretty damn convenient.”
“Yeah, it is. And it sticks out for me. He could have seen these other two women on the street, at their work. He’s from the neighborhood, so others who are, are used to seeing him. Think nothing of it.
“He doesn’t own a vehicle—or none is registered in his name. But he does have an up-to-date driver’s license. No garage, which is a disappointment, but he’s sturdy and solid, moves well. He could transfer a hundred-and-fifteen-pound woman from a vehicle at the curb to the house, late at night, choose his moment.”
“I’d like to know more about his relationship with his parents. No siblings?” Mira asked.
“No. Only child.”
“Yes, I’d like to know more.”
“We’ll find out more. Meanwhile, Detectives, I want you to pay a visit to those residences highlighted. Get inside if you can, get a read on the occupant. Show the photos of the three women, get a reaction.”