Delusion in Death

in conjunction with terrorist and attack.”
    “No. Agreed.”
    “Commander Whitney will read a statement, and he’ll take questions for a brief period. Chief Tibble has opted not to attend, as by so choosing he was able to convince the mayor to leave this to the NYPSD—for the moment.”
    Keep the politics out. “Good.”
    “You won’t take questions.”
    “Even better.”
    “The commander will simply acknowledge that you head an experienced investigative team, all of whom prioritized this incident. You’re already working several leads, conducting interviews, examining evidence—and so forth.”
    “What are we telling them about the difficult situation?”
    He smiled again, gently. “The NYPSD has recovered and identified a substance which was dispersed by an individual or individuals. Contact with this substance caused violent behavior.”
    “That’s pretty straightforward.”
    “Too many leaks have already sprung regarding the substance, the aftermath. It will be your job to stick to the statement when and if questioned by any reporter.”
    “That’s no problem. Except I’ve already spoken with Nadine Furst, and used my own judgment.”
    She noted Kyung’s mild look of pain, plowed on. “She’ll holdthe information I told her to hold until I clear it, but with it she’ll be able to gather information that may be relevant regarding the Red Horse cult, and any connection to this investigation.”
    “How much did you give her?” Whitney demanded.
    “Enough so she’ll dig into—confidentially—the cult, and anyone suspected or confirmed to have been a part of it.”
    “I realize you and Nadine have a personal dynamic,” Kyung began.
    “It’s not a matter of our dynamics. It’s a matter of her ethics. She agreed not to use the information I gave her until I cleared it. She won’t. There’s a connection,” Eve continued, addressing both men. “She’ll keep digging until she finds it—unless I find it first.”
    “Nadine’s given me no reason to doubt her word or her ethics,” Whitney commented. “If the Red Horse angle leaks …”
    “It won’t have come from her, or from my team. If it leaks, it’s a damn sure bet it came from the killer. Sir?”
    “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
    “We handle this, media-wise, in a straightforward fashion. Keep the details lean, but don’t cover up the fact something was done to these people. I think that’s exactly the right way to go. Going on the theory we have one guy, or a guy with a partner or partners. He’ll enjoy the attention. The fast spurt of questions, the careful answers. But it won’t be enough. The commander is a calm, and okay, commanding presence. While our guy’d enjoy the fact the NYPSD’s commander is leading the charge, he’s probably going to be irked he didn’t get the mayor to come out and dance. Then he’s going to bask awhile as the reporters get their stories on. But it won’t be enough,” she repeated.
    “You’re saying he’ll be compelled to repeat the experience.”

    “Kyung, he’s going to hit again unless we catch him first however we play it. Nobody goes to this much trouble, this much planning, achieves a whopping success, then dusts his hands off and moves on.”
    “That’s …” Kyung searched for the proper word. “Unsettling.”
    “Oh yeah. And if we go by the other theory, whacked religious cult picking up where they left off during the Urbans, same deal. This type needs to feed, and the appetite’s voracious. For the thrill and satisfaction of the kill, from the glow and ego of the aftermath. Everybody’s talking about him. They’ll be talking about all the memorials for all the dead. All that grief’s like chocolate sauce. It just sweetens the meal.”
    “You’re telling me to prepare for another statement, more briefings.”
    “Don’t plan a vacation. Sir, I’ve got an interview coming in.”
    “Go. If you’re in Interview or following up a viable lead, don’t come in for the media conference. The media, and the public,” Whitney continued before Kyung could protest, “will be satisfied the lead investigator is working the case.”
    “Thank you, sir.” She beat feet before he could change his mind.
    Eve moved through the buzz of Homicide. Cops who weren’t out in the field or in Interview worked their ’links and comps. The smell of bad coffee swirled so thickly she could have bathed in it.
    “Dallas.” Peabody intercepted her. “I’ve got Devon Lester in