“I hear that. The address on her official data? Some farm she supposedly retired to in France? Bogus. And her financial data, what I skimmed, looks hinky to me.”
“Hinky how?”
“Seems like she’d have more. Plus, no credit transactions, zippo. All cash. And what goes out, comes in. Almost to the dollar—or euro. Whatever.”
“Another front. We can dig into that. She’s in New York, and going to have that more. Lots of more. We’ll dig, and we’ll find it. But first, we find her.”
She checked the time again, and found the hour up.
“Set up facial ID, will you? Maybe we pop out another ID. Wait,” she said even as Callendar moved to the comp. “Try Swan—it has meaning for her. Start with Iris Swan, and look in France, too.”
As Callendar got started, Eve turned to the door and Peabody.
“The others are wrapping up,” Peabody said. “I’ve got five more, Dallas, over ninety percent probability.”
“On the board.”
“Ex-cops, ex-military—at least these five.” Peabody began to put them up. “I’m seeing they recruit the ex-cops as scouts, the military as guards and security. So far, anyway. Two female and one male as guards, I think, one female and one male scout.”
Peabody glanced back. “What digging I did into Red Swan, I get a mobile consulting firm, pretty small change. A couple more surfaced. A dance company in Wisconsin, and looks legit. A company called Cygne Rouge in Provence—France.”
“France,” Eve repeated.
“Yeah, it’s—ah—videography.”
“It’s going to connect.”
Peabody paused. “It is?”
“Any more?”
“A defunct escort service, way back. Out of business for close to a decade.”
“Depends on your definition. She ran it,” Eve said, and ordered Iris Beaty’s ID back on-screen.
“Is that—”
“I’m betting that’s Auntie. Iris Beaty.”
“Aka Iris Swan,” Callendar announced. “French ID.”
“And check her data,” Eve noted. “Same address as the videography front.”
“Are we going to France?”
Ignoring Peabody, Eve studied the side by sides Callendar put on-screen. “Changed her hair for Swan—deeper, longer, but not much else. Vain—she likes her face. And she’s not in France. She’s here in New York.”
I know you now, Eve thought.
“We’ll add informing the authorities over there,” she added. “They’ll want to hit that location. You want to funnel girls in Europe, it’s handy to have a location in Europe. And she’d spot-check on that. Zip on over, make sure it’s all running smooth. But she lives in New York. This location is the main hub.
“I need the data on the damn building. Peabody, get me whatever they’ve got. We’ve got a full briefing in ninety minutes.”
“Who are we briefing?”
“Every-damn-body. Go.”
Eve swung back to the board. “Yeah, I think she hit with these. Callendar, let’s start financial runs. Maxine Pryor first. Look for the shady, a secondary account, any—”
She broke off as she heard people coming. “Hold that for now.” She started to complain when they came in, but she caught the gleam in Feeney’s eyes.
“Me first,” she said, since Beaty was already on-screen. “Iris Beaty, former sex worker, former owner and proprietor of Red Swan, a defunct escort service, and companion to Jonah Devereaux. You can call her Auntie.”
“Good work, Callendar.”
She lifted her shoulders at Feeney. “Looks like Dallas and I hit with her at the same time. Different angles, same target.”
“She also has ID, French ID, under the name Iris Swan, and an address under each name in France, one bogus, the other claiming to be a videography business.”
“Another front.” Feeney hit the AC for coffee.
“Most likely, and most likely either another training location or a holding station for shipping the girls. Meanwhile Peabody’s ID’d seven employees of the Red Swan in New York—which claims to be a mobile consulting firm. No physical address.”
“Handy.”
“Your turn.”
“Devereaux’s got a legit shitpile of money, holdings, investments,” Feeney began. “RDS is a private company, he’s the sole owner, and he rakes it in. Doesn’t seem like he’d need the two shadow accounts we dug up. Had to dig deep,” Feeney added. “Guy’s no dumbass there, so it took a while. And … Your find.” He pointed at Roarke.