Mister X Part 39

Pearl thought, You little old matchmaker. You little old matchmaker.

"To hone the list even more, we factored in geography," Nyler said. "Then came the hard part. It was tedious and time consuming, but we obtained most of the remaining clients' addresses. Sometimes we had to rely on Homeland Security; sometimes the names and addresses were simply in the phone book."

"You should have been a detective," Fedderman said.

Nyler glanced over at him. "I am."

My G.o.d, Pearl thought, the new breed the new breed.

Nyler brushed back his fuehrer fuehrer lock of dark hair from his forehead and got back to business. "I overlaid a city map marked with the addresses and sites where the murders occurred." He right-clicked his computer's mouse, and a detailed map of Manhattan came on screen. The image grew larger as he zoomed in to Midtown and South Manhattan. lock of dark hair from his forehead and got back to business. "I overlaid a city map marked with the addresses and sites where the murders occurred." He right-clicked his computer's mouse, and a detailed map of Manhattan came on screen. The image grew larger as he zoomed in to Midtown and South Manhattan.

"There are seven suspect C and C clients living in near juxtaposition to the murder sites," he said. The cursor danced and blinked over one flagged address after another, and information, names, and addresses of seven men came on the screen.

"Are you saying one of these men is probably the Carver?" Quinn asked.

"No. I'm saying that of the C and C clients on the final list, the circ.u.mstances of personality, compatibility with the victim, appearance, age, and geography make these men the most logical for you to contact first."

"Does it make sense that they'd kill close to home?" Pearl asked.

"Close, no. But it also doesn't make sense that they'd kill farther from home than necessary. Everyone, even serial killers, tends to fall into patterns. Even a cautious killer will leave their house or apartment and turn either right or left most often, take a subway or cab or bus or not. Eat and shop at some of the same places. If they're driving, they'll avoid certain one-way or narrow streets, heavy traffic, or predictable long-term construction delays. In short, we all unconsciously choose the easiest route to wherever we're going. We seldom unnecessarily unnecessarily go out of our way, even while going somewhere to commit murder." He looked at each of his listeners in turn. "Remember, we're only discussing probabilities here." go out of our way, even while going somewhere to commit murder." He looked at each of his listeners in turn. "Remember, we're only discussing probabilities here."

"Possibilities," Pearl said.

"Okay," Nyler said. Again the un-Hitler smile that made him look like a mischievous child. Had the real Hitler smiled like that? "Odds," he said.

"We don't even know for sure it was a C and C client who killed Branston," Quinn said.

"Well, it's an imperfect world," Nyler said. "And difficult to predict. I'm just trying to chart you the easiest possible way to get where you want to be."

"Like the killer choosing a victim," Fedderman said.

"Or the victim moving toward her killer. Starting at any of those seven addresses, and the victim's address, my computerized victim and killer should think and act somewhat in conjunction, whether they know it or not."

"And you came to this conclusion by starting at the crime scenes and working backward," Pearl said.

"Er, not exactly. But yes, that's pretty much how it works."

"That's how we work," Quinn said.

"There you go," Nyler said.

"Whaddya think?" Pearl asked when Nyler had gone.

"I think it's mostly bulls.h.i.t," Quinn said, "but we oughta go to those seven addresses and talk to those seven guys."

"Funny if they turn out to be seven brothers looking for brides," Fedderman said. "Or three feet tall, like in Snow White Snow White. Hey, maybe I'll get Dopey."

"I get him all the time," Pearl said.

Quinn gave her his warning look.

"If they have something else in common," Pearl said, "it'll give me more confidence in Nyler and his computer program." She gave Quinn a look to let him know she was dubious about this turn in the case. "It seems to me this is a good job for Vitali and Mishkin."

"No," Quinn said, "I'd rather have them looking for the real Chrissie Keller. Besides, you're the closest thing we've got to Snow White."

61.

Pearl drew a guy named Fred Levin who lived on Fifth Avenue near the park. It was an impressive address. Everything in the lobby was drastically oversized, as if to make smaller and intimidate anyone who happened in uninvited. She showed the six-foot-plus doorman one of the badges given out by Renz, and he called up and explained to Levin that she was a detective.

Levin told the doorman to send Pearl up, and after signing in to the building she rode the big elevator to the big seventeenth floor.

The hall was carpeted in rich brown that felt a foot thick under Pearl's feet. The apartment doors were cream colored and gilded, with gleaming curled bra.s.s handles rather than k.n.o.bs. One of the doors down the hall was open, and a medium-height, slender, dark-haired guy was standing just outside it smiling at Pearl. He was wearing tight designer jeans and a white golf shirt with a turned-up collar. From this distance, he appeared quite handsome.

Fred Levin wasn't a disappointment close up. He had chiseled features with full lips for a man, and a head of wavy black hair. His dark eyes took in Pearl with obvious interest. She saw that he was wearing leather deck shoes without socks. He was thirty-five, according to Pearl's information, but he might have pa.s.sed for twenty-five. Pearl thought smoldering smoldering would describe him pretty well. Maybe there was something to this C and C operation. would describe him pretty well. Maybe there was something to this C and C operation.

She introduced herself, and they shook hands.

"You're a detective?" he asked, as she approached. "Like on Law and Order Law and Order?"

"Uh-huh. Just like."

Levin stepped aside so she could enter, then closed the door and motioned for her to sit on a light tan leather sofa. There were matching chairs and a low coffee table the size of a small airport. Works of modern art hung on the walls. They were mostly prints, but a few were definitely oils, and something about them suggested they'd been carefully chosen.

Pearl sat. "Nice apartment."

"I hired a decorator," Levin said. "A few years ago, when things were going well."

"Things aren't going well now?" Pearl asked.

Levin shrugged. "You know, Wall Street. I worked for Lehman Brothers, and then a smaller firm after Lehman went under. Five months ago the smaller firm went under."

"So you're unemployed?"

He smiled. "'Fraid so. But the smaller firm ran hedge funds and I walked away with scads of money, so unemployment doesn't stop me from offering you something to drink."

"These hedge funds were legal?"

"Barely. Coffee? Something stronger?"

"Water would be good," Pearl said.

She watched him walk into the kitchen. So slender and athletic. On a tall bookcase near a window was what looked like a skiing trophy.

"You ski compet.i.tively?" she asked, when he returned with a tumbler of water with crushed ice in it.

"Used to," Levin said. "Downhill slalom. Till I tore up one of my knees a few years ago."

"That's too bad." Pearl sipped her ice water. She remained on the sofa. Levin remained standing. "Do you recognize this woman?" she asked, and stretched out an arm to hand him a photograph of Lilly Branston.

She watched his handsome face as he studied the photo. If he did recognize Branston, there was no sign of it.

He handed the photo back to Pearl. "She looks vaguely familiar, but I don't think I know her."

"Her name's Lilly Branston."

He looked a little less blank.

"She's the Carver's latest murder victim."

He looked genuinely surprised and then smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Jesus! Yes. Of course. I think I might have seen that photo-or one like it. There's a bulletin board in the subway stop. It's got her name and photo on it. Said something about her being missing, I thought."

"No," Pearl said, "must be another woman on the subway wall. Lilly Branston isn't missing. We know right where she is-in the morgue."

Levin made an ineffective pa.s.s at looking appropriately grieved, and then he appeared puzzled.

"What?" he asked. "I should care more than I do?"

"I don't know how much you care."

"Not much, tell you the truth. Of course I feel sorry for the victim, but I don't get overemotional about that kind of thing. I mean, about a woman I never met. Is there some connection with me? Did she live around here?"

"Not far away." Pearl placed her water gla.s.s on a cork coaster, part of a stack placed for convenience on the coffee table. The table was oak and gave the impression that it might be antique and expensive. "Have you ever used the services of an Internet matchmaking company called Coffee and Conversation?"

She watched the changes in his eyes. He was thinking furiously. Wondering how he might possibly be involved. Or wondering how to lie so he'd seem uninvolved.

"That Lilly Branston!" he said. Lilly Branston!" he said.

"The dead one," Pearl said.

"She was next on a list of women I was going to get in touch with." Levin began to pace, three steps this way, three back, swiveling neatly on the plush carpet. The leather soles of his deck shoes looked as if they'd never been outside. "I didn't mean to lie to you. It came to me gradually who she is. Was. Lately I've looked at a lot of photos of a lot of women."

"So you've met a number of women through Coffee and Conversation."

"No, only two. I'm very selective. I've been divorced for three years. I've learned to be careful about my relationships. Maybe too careful." He made a sweeping motion with an arm to take in the vast, well-furnished living room. "As you can see, I'm what you'd call more than reasonably wealthy."

"You're concerned that women might be after your money instead of you?"

"Yes. But only insofar as they might turn out to be a waste of my time. Fact is, I wouldn't want a woman who didn't at least take my wealth into consideration. I like very smart, very aggressive women. When I saw that Lilly Branston was a real estate agent with the Willman Group, I knew she had to be both those things." Levin tried a smile. "Have you ever noticed how aggressive female real estate agents are?"

"Like female cops," Pearl said.

He gave her a speculative up-and-down look. "I do read the papers. It's interesting that a cop who's the serial killer's type-and quite beautiful, I will add-is searching for the monster. Kind of like the baitfish seeking the shark."

"We won't go to that part of the ocean," Pearl said. "We were talking about your search for a soul mate."

"Yes. Anyway, what I liked about Coffee and Conversation was that, if things didn't work out after your first meeting, there were no loose ends. I mean, n.o.body had anybody's address or phone number. Maybe not even their real name. They had only rudimentary information, and maybe the photo that was on the C and C website, and that was it. n.o.body was going to..."

"Stalk you?"

"Not so much that. More cling to me. I've found women to be clingy."

"You're not short on ego."

"No, I am not. But I do attract women on the hunt. That's why the C and C concept appealed to me. You contact C and C, and if the other party is willing, they set up a time and date for coffee and a get-acquainted meeting. You are literally strangers when you meet. If either of you so chooses, you can keep it that way."

"Did your meetings with the first two women on your list go any further than caffeine and conversation?"

"No. I think I was way too aggressive for them."

"You didn't mention their names."

He gave Pearl two names that she jotted in her notepad. She would check later and make sure they were C and C clients.

Pearl placed her notepad and pencil in her lap. "When you say you were 'too aggressive,' do you mean s.e.xually? In your s.e.xual practices?"

Levin stopped pacing and appeared genuinely shocked. "No, no, nothing like that. What I mean is that I don't apologize for wanting to make even more money, for wanting even more prestige and power. More of everything. It's part of Darwinism, part of being human. Too many people don't accept that. You'd be surprised how many women out there want to turn the world green, or spray paint people wearing fur coats, or eat nothing but arugula lettuce and beans-and all to the exclusion of everything else." He looked sincerely at Pearl. "Detective, I don't give a flying flip if the world is two degrees hotter in twenty years or if the ocean rises six inches. I want to be the guy who gets rich building dikes."

Pearl looked at him. Hoo, boy! Hoo, boy!

"So you were what...too honest for those women?"

He laughed. "You might call it that. I don't want to get involved with any woman under false pretenses. Best to get our beliefs and ambitions out there in the beginning. Do I want to be fantastically wealthy and take over the world? Be the king of everything? Sure, if the opportunity presents itself."

"Are you legally sane?" Pearl asked.

At first she thought he was going to get mad, but he simply laughed again. "We both know I can't answer that one, so why did you ask it?"

"You, uh, remind me of someone." She picked up her notebook again and glanced at what she'd jotted down. "Did you meet either or these women night before last?"

"Sure did." He gave Pearl the woman's name, which she underlined. "We spent three hours learning about each other in the Weekly Grind coffee shop, and then we had a late supper and strolled around the city for a while. Till well past midnight, actually."

"Sounds romantic. You must have hit it off at least somewhat."

"I thought so. Three lattes' worth, anyway. She even gave me her phone number, but when I called yesterday she said she'd thought about it and didn't want to carry the relationship any further. It was because I'd kicked at a stray cat while we were walking. The thing might have had rabies, for all we knew. She confessed she was a member of PETA. I told her I liked animals and would join PETA myself, but it didn't impress her."

"Maybe for some reason she thought you were being insincere."

"But I do do like animals. Enough, anyway." like animals. Enough, anyway."