In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

I've bumped Carmichael Smith to the bottom. My opinion is he's too volatile and too pampered to fit the profile."
     
     
Peabody. launched up a hand like the nerdy kid in class who screwed the grading curve for everybody else. "Yes, Officer?"
     
     
"Sir, couldn't the fact that subject Smith is volatile and pampered go toward profile rather than away?"
     
     
"These traits could play in, and his travel will be checked along with the others. But he's bottom of the list for now. Fortney's ahead of him, but not by much. We-"
     
     
When Peabody's hand shot up again, Eve found herself caught between amusement and irritation. "What?"
     
     
"Sir, sorry. I'm just trying to cross all the T's like in a sim. Doesn't Fortney fit profile, almost perfectly? His upbringing, his previously documented violence against women, his current lifestyle?"
     
     
"Yeah, but he's bumped down mostly because he's just such an asshole," She waited to see if Peabody would comment, and watched her aide's brow knit as she chewed over the response. "I think our guy has more style, which is why Renquist and Breen are neck-in-neck in my mind. I'm going to corner Breen's wife's lover today, and we'll see what that nets us."
     
     
"I hear she's smoking," McNah commented and earned a frigid look from Peabody.
     
     
"Of course, one of my primary concerns is the fact that she's smoking," Eve said coolly. "I've no doubt this attribute will assist us in identifying and apprehending a man who's killed two women and brutally assaulted another in under two weeks. Moving along," she said when McNab at least pretended to look chastised. "As you EDD guys didn't come in here doing the victory shuffle, I assume we haven't locked down the rental."
     
     
"Why don't you take this, bright boy?" Feeney said. "See if you can redeem yourself."
     
     
"He used a wireless unit," McNab began. "He didn't bother to bounce or filter, so it was fairly easy to trace back. The transmission for the order originated from the Renaissance Hotel. That's the fancy place on Park. You gotta be worth minimum of a mil just to get past the doorman. The van was ordered four days ago, at fourteen thirty-six."
     
     
"Lunchtime crowd," Eve commented.
     
     
"My guess is he frequents the place, knows where to go to shoot off a quick trans. Lots of big business types cart their pricey little portables to lunch meetings. Since he had very specific requirements for the order, he either had the trans ready to go, or he sat down in one of the privacy booths, or at a nice table with a glass of wine, and generated it there."
     
     
"Good. We'll see if any of our choices lunched at the Renaissance on the order date. Not smart," she said with a satisfied nod. "Smarter would've been to dress down, use a cyber-hole somewhere. A place nobody knew him. But he likes to show off. He likes to play, so he goes to an exclusive hotel, where I just bet they know him by name.. - Peabody. Tell me about the plaster."
     
     
"I've got building supply places in Brooklyn, in Newark, and in Queens who did cash transactions for small quantities of plaster in the past -sixty days. None in medical supply places for that substance, cash transactions."
     
     
"None?"
     
     
"No, sir. Credit or purchasing order from established accounts. Then I got a brainstorm and checked art supply outlets."
     
     
"Art supply?"
     
     
"Yes, sir. You can sculpt with plaster, and other forms of art may utilize it. I got several hits in the city, several more in the boroughs and New jersey for cash."
     
     
"Looks like we're going to be busy then." She checked her wrist unit. "The plaster from the scene's been in the lab long enough. If they don't have an exact match on "the type; they should have. Let's see if Dickhead can earn his salary and tell us if there's a difference between household, medical, and art plaster."
     
     
She looked at Feeney. "Feel like getting out of the house?"
     
     
"Wouldn't mind a little' fresh air."
     
     
"Let me know if you find any out there. Want to take the hotel?"
     
     
"Long as I don't have to wear a tie."
     
     
"Peabody and I will give Dickhead a push on our way to see the side dish."
     
     
"She might hit on you," McNab commented. "Maybe we should take her. Ow!" He grabbed his side where Peabody's elbow jabbed. "Jeez, just kidding. Since you've been studying your brains out, you've got no sense of humor."
     
     
"I'm going to laugh really hard after I kick your