In Death 19 - Visions in Death

session with Mira to her case file, and organized her notes into her daily report.
    Roarke had told her he'd meet her at her office at seven-thirty if not before, so she had time. A little time. She started the research on eye sensitivities, then let the computer hum along while she got up, paced to the window.
    Bad vibes, she thought again, and looked out at her city.
    It wasn't extrasensory. What she had, what she did was, in her opinion, the antithesis of paranormal. It was elemental, maybe on some level even primitive the way early man had known when to hunt and when to hide.
    She'd say visceral except the word always sounded sort of pompous to her. And there was nothing pompous about cop work.
    The vibes, for lack of a better word, were a combination of instinct and experience and a knowledge she had no inclination to analyze.
    She knew he'd marked his next target. And could only wonder who, and where, he'd strike tonight.

CHAPTER 18
    In his elegant dark business suit, Roarke circled Eve's new vehicle while it was parked in her slot in Central's garage.
    "Haven't had a chance to really examine your upgrade. Long overdue, Lieutenant." "It does the job." "Better, one hopes, than your previous one." He tapped the hood. "Release the hood latch." "Why?" "So I can look at the engine." "Why? It runs. What else is there to know? Looking at it doesn't change anything." He gave her a long, pitying smile. "Darling Eve, your absolute lack of interest and aptitude for mechanics is so female." "Watch it, pal." "Wouldn't you like to know what's under here?" He tapped the hood again. "What's getting you where you're going?" "No." Though he had stirred some mild curiosity. "Besides, I'm getting a later start on this than I'd planned. Let's just move." "Well, let's have the codes." He lifted a brow when she frowned. "If you won't let me play with it, you can at least let me drive it." She supposed it was fair. He was giving her the evening for work. She gave him the codes, then walked around to the passenger side. "The department appreciates your time and assistance, blah, blah." "Please, you're much too effusive in your gratitude." He settled behind the wheel, adjusting the seat to his preference, scanning the dash. He judged the data and communication system to be middle-range. It baffled him that the NYPSD didn't spring for top-of-the-line for their mobile situations.
    He engaged the engine and wasn't displeased by the sound.
    "You've got more power under you this time, at least." Then he smiled at her. "Sorry I couldn't get here sooner." "It's okay. I kept busy. And Feeney couldn't wiggle loose until about twenty minutes ago, so he and Peabody are getting a late start with this, too." "Then let's catch up." He eased out of the slot, drove at a discreet speed to the entrance. Flicked a glance at the pattern of traffic.
    And punched it.
    "Jesus, Roarke!" He whipped through, skimming his way around cabs and cars and one-seaters, and nipped through a light a blink before it went to red. "Not bad," he decided.
    "If I bung this thing up the first week, I'll never live it down." "Umm-hmm." He went vertical, maintaining it until he'd swung around a corner. "Could be a bit more elastic on the turns, but it handles well enough." "And if Traffic lights you up, I'm not flashing my badge to kill the violation." "Lateral's fairly smooth," he decided after testing it out.
    "So, where are we going?" She sighed, long and deep, but at least the question allowed her to relay the first name and address to her map system.
    "You want the route displayed on windshield or the dash monitor?" "Dash will do." "On monitor," she ordered and couldn't suppress the smile when it popped on. "I ditched the vocals. It'll only blab at me if I specifically order it to. Too bad people don't come with the same accessory." She rattled off the route.
    "How did Celina's session go?" Roarke asked her.
    "She handled it. We got a few more details, but it's tough going. Mira won't approve another session without a twenty-four-hour break."
    "A slow process." "Yeah, and he's not going to move slow. It's not just women he's after, but women he sees as having control over him." "Symbolically."
    "Maybe I pushed him the wrong way, pushed him when I did the interview with Nadine, then the media conference.
    He's escalating." "Whether you push or not, he'll continue to kill until you stop him." "Yeah, I'll be doing that. I'll damn well be doing that soon."
    Her first stop was