They’d be worth a closer look.
He shifted back and forth between tasks, to keep himself sharp. He wormed his way through security blocks, picked his way through data. Ordered search, cross match, analysis so his e
quipment hummed in a dozen voices.
At some point he got up for yet another pot of coffee, and glanced at the time.
Four-sixteen a.m.
Cursing, he sat back, scrubbed his hands over his face. Hardly a wonder he was losing his edge. And Eve, he knew, would be asleep at her desk. If she’d decided to call it a night, she would have come by to check his progress first.
Instead, she’d work herself into the ground, and as he was doing exactly the same, he had no room to fight with her about it.
Nearly half-four, he thought. Gia Rossi might already be dead, or praying to all the gods death would come soon.
Roarke closed his eyes a moment, and though he knew the guilt was useless, let it run through him. He was too tired for the anger.
“Copy document C to disc, save all data. Ah, continue current run, copy and save when complete. Operator will be off-line.”
Acknowledged.
Before he left, he put in a call to Dublin.
“Good morning to you, Brian.”
His old mate’s wide face creased with a surprised smile. “Well now, if it isn’t the man himself. Which side of the pond would you be on?”
“The Yank side. It’s a bit early on your side of it for me to be calling a publican. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You didn’t, no. I’m just having my tea. How is our Lieutenant Darling?”
“She’s well, thanks. Would you be alone there?”
“I would be, more’s the pity. I’ve no enchanting woman to warm the sheets with me at the moment, as you do.”
“I’m sorry for that. Brian, I’m looking for a torturer.”
“Is that so?” Only the mildest surprise showed in Brian’s eyes. “And are you too delicate these days to be after taking care of such matters yourself?”
“I was always too delicate for this, and so were you. He’s done over twenty women in the last decade, late twenties, early thirties, all of them. And all of them with brown hair, light skin. The last was found only yesterday. She worked for me.”
“Ah,” Brian said. “Well.”
“Another is missing—that’s part of his method—and she was mine as well.”
Brian sucked air through his nose. “Were you diddling with them, on the side, like?”
“No. He’d be older than we are, that’s how they’re profiling him. At least a decade older if not more. He’s very skilled. He travels. He must have enough of the ready to afford a place, a private place, to do this work. If he’s a professional, he takes this busman’s holiday every year or two. There’s no sex involved. No rape. He takes, binds, tortures, kills, cleanses. And he times how long each lasts under it.”
“I haven’t heard of anyone like this. Nasty business.” Brian pulled on his ear. “I can make some inquiries, tap a few shoulders.”
“I’d be grateful if you would.”
“I’ll be in touch if and when,” Brian told him. “Meanwhile, give Lieutenant Darling a sweet kiss from me, and tell her I’m only waiting for her to throw your worthless ass aside and come into my waiting embrace.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
After he’d ended the transmission, Roarke took the discs he’d generated and, with the machines still humming, left the office.