Glory in Death - J. D. Robb [82]
“I did, yes, sir.” Eve took an extra step forward to take the heat. “We have video of him on the gate security at Channel 75 at the time of Louise Kirski’s murder.” She didn’t pause, but streamed through her report, her voice brisk, her eyes level.
“David says he saw the murder.”
“He claims he saw someone, possibly male, in a long black coat and a hat, attack Kirski, then run toward Third.”
“And he panicked,” Whitney added, still in control. His hands were quiet on his desk. “Left the scene without reporting the incident.” Whitney may have been cursing inwardly, his stomach might have been in greasy knots of tension, but his eyes were cool, hard, and steady. “It’s not an atypical reaction from a witness to a violent crime.”
“He denied he was on scene,” Eve said calmly. “Tried to cover, offered a bribe. He had the opportunity, Commander. And he’s linked to all three victims. He knew Metcalf, was working with her on a project, had been to her apartment.”
Whitney’s only reaction was to curl his fingers, then uncurl them. “Motive, Lieutenant?”
“Money first,” she said. “He’s having financial difficulties that will be eased after his mother’s will is probated. The victims, or in the third case, the intended victim, were all strong women in the public eye. Were all, in some manner, causing him distress. Unless his lawyers try to block it, Doctor Mira will test him, determine his emotional and mental state, the probability factor of his aptitude toward violence.”
She thought of the press of his hands around her throat and figured the probability was going to be nice and high.
“He wasn’t in New York for the first two murders.”
“Sir.” She felt a bolt of pity, but suppressed it. “He has a private plane. He can shuttle anywhere he likes. It’s pathetically simple to doctor flight plans. I can’t book him for the murders yet, but I want him held until we gather more evidence.”
“You’re holding him on leaving the scene and the bribery charge?”
“It’s a good arrest, Commander. I’m requesting search warrants. When we find any physical evidence—”
“If,” Whitney interrupted. He rose now, no longer able to sit behind his desk. “That’s a very big difference, Dallas. Without physical evidence, your murder case can’t hold.”
“Which is why he has yet to be charged for murder.” She laid a hard copy on his desk. She and Feeney had taken the time to swing past her office and use her computer for the probability ratio. “He knew the first two victims and Nadine Furst, had contact with them, was on the scene of the last murder. We suspect that Towers was covering for someone when she zapped the last call on her ’link. She would have covered for her son. And their relationship was strained due to his gambling problem and her refusal to bail him out. With known data, the probability factor of guilt is eighty-three point one percent.”
“You haven’t taken into account that he’s incapable of that kind of violence.” Whitney laid his hands on the edge of his desk and leaned forward. “You didn’t factor that in to the mix, did you, Lieutenant? I know David Angelini, Dallas. I know him as well as I know my own children. He isn’t a killer. He’s a fool, perhaps. He’s weak, perhaps. But he isn’t a cold-blooded killer.”
“Sometimes the weak and the foolish strike out. Commander, I’m sorry. I can’t kick him loose.”
“Do you have any idea what it would do to a man like him to be penned? To know he’s suspected of killing his own mother?” There was no choice left for him, in Whitney’s mind, but a plea. “I can’t deny that he was spoiled. His father wanted the best for him and for Mirina, and saw that they got it. From childhood he was accustomed to asking for something and having it fall into his lap. Yes, his life has been easy, privileged, even indulgent. He’s made mistakes, errors in judgment, and they’ve been fixed for him. But there’s no malice in him, Dallas. No violence. I know him.”
Whitney’s voice didn’t rise, but it reverberated