Shadows in Death (In Death #51) - J.D. Robb Page 0,7
his own, or picked out of the pockets of Interpol, the CIA, MI6, the NCA, Ireland’s CSB, and others.
Cops around the world had data on Cobbe, knew him to be a killer for hire, or suspected him.
He’d done some time in his late teens for being foolish enough to get caught in a sweep of an underground gambling den—and for having several illegal weapons in his possession at the time.
Roarke suspected Cobbe had put those eighteen months to good use, making contacts. Shortly after Cobbe’s release, the police informant on the raid took a swim in the Seine with his throat cut ear to ear.
Sharps remained his go-to—though he did enjoy a bat or a boot on the smaller or defenseless to start. He’d use a garrote as a change of pace.
He liked the up-close kill, the personal kill. No one had data on him ever using explosives or any kind of long-range weaponry.
“He likes the blood,” Roarke murmured. “The smell of it, the feel of it. The look in the eyes as life drains away. There’s what feeds him.
“Computer, display last known ID, under any alias.”
Acknowledged. Accessing. Displaying … Cobbe, Lorcan, DOB first September, 2020, Dublin, Ireland. Hair brown, eyes hazel, height six feet, weight 190. No fixed address. Consultant.
“Consultant, is it? That’s a word for it. That ID’s nearly a year old. He’ll have others. Let’s find them.”
Roarke pushed up his sleeves, pulled a leather strip out of his pocket, and tied back his hair.
He got to work.
With Peabody, Eve walked out of Tween’s house, started back to the car. “He’s not very good at it.”
“Man, I’ll say he’s not. He couldn’t even work up a tear. Not even the pretense of fighting tears. Some people are stoic, right?” Peabody continued, “This wasn’t stoic.”
“Not stoic,” Eve agreed. “And not the other end of the spectrum with jubilant. He’s just satisfied the deal’s complete. He never asked where she was, when he could see her, if she suffered. She basically doesn’t exist anymore.
“We’re going to want to talk to the housekeeper.”
“I’ll contact her first thing in the morning.”
“And the vic’s family—another thing he didn’t mention.” Eve checked the time, shook her head. “We should be able to keep her ID under wraps until morning, so we talk to them first thing.”
“They keep an apartment here.” Peabody read off her PPC. “But their main residence is Florence. The vic’s brother’s based in Rome.”
“What the hell time is it in Italy?”
“Um.”
“Never mind. I’ll take care of it when I get home.”
She opened the car door. McNab slurped on a fizzy in the back seat.
“I got you some views of the black hoodie, Dallas. Copied to your home unit. And of the red jacket—cued those up for you. He didn’t worry about showing his face in the red jacket.”
Shifting forward, he held the PPC between the front seats to show a still shot on his display.
Cobbe stood in the crowd, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his pants. Smirking.
“He moves in and out of camera range. He sure as hell knows where the cams are and how to work the blind spots. Using his face or just the description of the jacket, the pants, I could track him when he moved into range. The last confirmed sighting’s at double-zero-thirty.”
“Good job. I’ll drop you at home. Peabody, if the vic’s family’s in New York, plan to meet me at their residence at eight. I’ll let you know. If they’re in Italy, I’ll handle it via ’link, and you’ll meet me at the morgue. Contact the housekeeper in the morning, have her come in. McNab, get anything you can off the vic’s ’link.”
“Dallas, I did a quick run on this Cobbe while doing the search. He’s all kinds of bad news.”
“Brief Peabody on same.”
“Tween’s bad news, too.” Peabody shifted to look back at McNab. “A different kind, but bad.”
“Brief McNab on same.”
She swung to the corner near their apartment. “Out. Eight sharp, Peabody, one place or the other.”
“On that.”
“Oh, you’ve got six varieties of chips in the AC,” McNab told Eve as he slid out.
“Great. Go.”
The minute the door slammed, she swung away from the curb. She glanced in the rearview, saw them hold hands as they walked.
And now her car smelled like salt and sugar. She opened the windows to blow it out, decided she could actually use some sugar. After ordering a tube of Pepsi from the in-dash AC, she ordered up a run