Brazen Virtue

Lowenstein?”
    “I threw rice at your wedding, didn’t I?” And the truth was she had a soft spot for romance. “I guess if you can talk a class act into marrying you, Ed can carve hearts with Greenwich Village.” She nodded toward Ed. “Looks like you’re being summoned.”
    “Yeah. Lowenstein, five bucks for the pie.”
    “Don’t insult me.”
    “Ten.”

    “It’s yours.” She held out her palm, then counted the singles Ben put into it. Already planning on eating half for lunch, Ben slipped the box into the bottom drawer of his desk before he followed Ed into Harris’s office.
    “What’s up?”
    “Miss McCabe requested a meeting,” Harris began. He was already half an hour behind schedule and anxious to be gone.
    “I appreciate you giving me the time.” Grace smiled at Harris and almost managed to charm him. “I won’t waste any of it, so I’ll get right to the point. We’re all aware that Fantasy is the link between the three attacks that have already taken place. And I’m sure we’re all aware there’ll be others—”
    “The investigation’s in full swing, Miss McCabe,” Harris interrupted. “I can assure you we have our best people working on it.”
    “You don’t have to assure me of that.” She sent Ed a last look, hoping he’d understand. “I’ve thought about this a great deal, first because of my sister, and second because murder has always interested me. If I were plotting this out, there would be only one logical step to take at this time. I think it’s the right one.”
    “We appreciate your interest, Miss McCabe.” When she smiled at him again, Harris felt almost fatherly. But she still didn’t know diddly about real police work. “But my people are much more experienced with the reality of investigation.”
    “I understand that. Would you be interested if I told you I think I’ve found a way to trap this man? I’ve already taken the steps, Captain, I simply want to apprise you of them, then you can do whatever you think necessary.”
    “Grace, this isn’t a book or a television show.” Ed interrupted her because he had a feeling, a very bad feeling, that he knew where she was heading.

    The glance she gave him was apologetic and worried him even more. “I know that. You don’t know how much I wish it were.” She took a deep breath and faced Harris again. “I went to see Eileen Cawfield.”
    “Miss McCabe—”
    “Please, hear me out.” She lifted her hand a moment, not so much in a plea as in a gesture of determination. “I know that every lead you’ve had has been a dead end. Except Fantasy. Have you been able to shut down the company?”
    Harris scowled and shuffled papers. “That sort of thing takes time. Without cooperation, a great deal of time.”
    “And every one of the women who work for Fantasy is a potential victim. Do we agree?”
    “In theory,” Harris answered.
    “And in theory, is it possible for you to put guards on all of them? No,” she answered before Harris could. “It can’t be. But you could put guards on one person. On a person who understands what’s going on, on a person who’s willing to take the chance, and more, already has a link with the killer.”
    “Are you out of your mind?” Ed said it quietly, too quietly. That more than anything warned Grace that he was ready to explode.
    “It makes sense.” To calm herself, she dug in her bag for a cigarette. “It was Kathleen’s voice that first drew him. When we were growing up, we were always mistaken for each other over the phone. If I’m Desiree, he’ll want to find me again. We know he can.”
    “It’s too loose, too risky, and it’s just plain stupid.” Ed bit off the last words as he looked to his partner for support.

    “I don’t like it either.” Ben said it, but he saw the merit of Grace’s plan. “Solid police work is always better than the big play. You’ve got no guarantee he’ll fall for it, less that you can anticipate his actions if he does. In any case, Mrs. Morrison’s on her way in to work with the police artist. Any luck and we’ll have a composite by the end of the day.”
    “Fine. Then maybe you’ll pick him up before any of this becomes necessary.” Grace lifted her hands, palms out, then dropped them. “I’m not going to bank on it when we’re talking about a nearsighted, terrified woman in a dark room.” She blew out a stream of smoke and prepared to drop the next bomb. “I spoke with Tess this morning, and I