Three Libras - BLACKBIRD book 4

11. make it one

Brock scowled deeper when Russell pressed the button to the fifth floor, not the fourth.

Russell smiled. Brock was taking things to a funny extent—that is, funny as long as he had his Kevlar at hand. "I don't want the team buzzing all over our office," he said. "Do you?"

Brock didn't answer and turned to look at the elevator's door.

His eyes scanned the place with a quick glare when they stepped out. The regular staff moved around as usual. Cooper was in her office with her assistant. No trace of Gillian. Where was she hiding? Now that cunning liar didn't have the nerve to show her face?

They had hardly walked past the inner window of the team's office, when Tanya jumped to her feet and hurried to the door. Only she and Kurt were in there. Kurt's music went off as soon as they walked in. The girl welcomed them with an avalanche of information, delivered in her usual fast speech and meant only for Brock.

"Good morning, Agent Brockner. No local matches from Ballistic, so I started the search nationwide. The PD Coroner just sent the autopsy reports. Sergeant Banks and Fred are questioning alleged gang members in the Roxbury area about the murder firearm. Local staff is contacting 357 Magnum registered owners to check their alibis. There are no reports of any 357 missing or stolen over the last three years." The girl needed a pause to breathe, and used it to point at a clean desk close to the door. "Here, sir. You can use this one." She patted the folders on it. "Here you have printed copies of everything we have. Kurt is checking security feeds from the crime scenes' areas, to see if we can spot the subjects. I've been enhancing pictures from Nina Evans' scene, requested by Ron and Aldana a while ago. They're on their way back, and should be here in twenty minutes tops. I've run a search on VICAP for this MO. The closest match is the original Libra, of course. Among the next five matches, one is dead, one in prison and two of them live in the West Coast and are accountable for. The fifth match is only a sixty-five percent, but he lives in Massachusetts. I'm pulling his records and running a background check just in case, 'cause Reg said... you'd know what to do..."

Tanya trailed off when she realized she'd mentioned Gillian, blushed and turned to Russell, eyes widening in fear.

Russell rested a hand on her shoulder with a reassuring smile. "Great job, T. Thanks," he said, winking at her.

She risked a cautious glance at Brock, and saw him flick through the folders. She let out a relieved sigh and hurried back to her desk.

Brock had given up trying to understand every word Tanya said, and picked up only the key parts. Considering he'd always liked Tanya's skill to go straight to the point and do her job fast and well, he decided not to strangle her when she mentioned that cunning lying coward. After all, the girl wasn't to blame for Gillian's virtues.

Tanya came back while Russell fixed coffee for them. She handed Brock two folders with a shy grimace. He was a light-year away from being able to smile at her, so he raised his eyebrows.

"The report on the footprints from both scenes, sir. Since Aldana requested those pictures enhanced, I enhanced the ones from the second scene as well, sir. Just in case."

Brock made a mental note that if he ever needed a steady tech working with him, it would be Tanya. Let Gillian come argue—and deal with his Glock. For now, he just nodded.

"Thanks, Lawrence," he said, and for the first time over the last couple of hours, his voice didn't sound like a death threat. "Tell me, can you see to have hidden cameras set at both scenes, to watch them when the locals release the areas?"

"I'm on it, sir!" she replied, and rushed away.

Russell joined him, bringing two steamy mugs. "Here. You think they may revisit?"

"Maybe, when the uproar quiets down, if they don't see police around."

"What d'you wanna do now?"

"We need to find the dominant's signature. That would help us find him on VICAP."

Russell pulled a chair closer and sat down. "Okay, let's do it."

* * *

Aldana and Ron arrived past ten. She was about to drop her bag on Gillian's desk, just out of habit, and stopped when she noticed it was being used. So she took her things to her own desk with an ironic smile—did Brockner know whose desk he was using? She headed straight to the coffee machine, because since Fred was out, nobody had bothered to keep it filled.

They found Russell and Brock before an enlarged autopsy schematic pinned to one of the boards, reports and red marker in hand, comparing the stabs.

"Morning," said Ron, joining the other two by the board.

Brock met Ron's eyes, read the hostility in them and was very pleased to ignore it. He nodded hi and turned again to the board.

Russell patted Ron's arm as he pointed at Gillian's desk. "T left the pictures you asked with our folders," he said. "Any reason to have them enhanced?"

"The footprints looked like one of the subjects stayed away from the victim. Did you see anything like that at your crime scene?"

Russell narrowed his eyes and shook his head, then turned to Brock. He'd kept working on the autopsy reports. So Russell fetched the pictures from the second scene and studied them.

A moment later, Brock noticed Russell and Ron pinned all the pictures of footprints on the next board.

Russell turned to him. "Take a look at this, Brock," he said.

So Brock did. He moved to the next board, keeping his back to the others. They traded a look, half amused, half annoyed.

"The submissive is the shooter," he said a moment later. "And the dominant is a sexual sadist with performance issues."

"Performance?" whispered Aldana.

"Performance, Al." Ron patted Russell's shoulder. "Guess you don't need to worry about that with our stallion."

Brock lowered his head and breathed deep. He was so not in the mood for the punks' jokes.

"Coleman," he grunted, checking the report in his hand. "Which subject inflicted most of the wounds on the first victim?"

Russell winked at the other two and wore a grave frown to check the first autopsy report. "The right-handed."

Brock scowled, eyes down on the second report. "The right-handed?"

"Yeah, why?"

"On the second victim, most of the stab wounds were inflicted by the left-handed." Brock gave Russell the report and glared at the pictures on the board, like they were to blame for that puzzle.

"You think the dominant is encouraging the submissive?" asked Russell.

Ron opened his mouth and Aldana's elbow sank between his ribs. "Ouch!" he grunted.

"No," Brock replied. "He wouldn't share his moment of intimacy with the victim."

"Then he's losing his authority over the submissive?" tried Russell.

This time, Aldana's scowl was enough to silence Ron.

Brock shook his head. "The submissive doesn't even like stabbing their victims. That's why he shoots them."

"Then why...?"

"Because only one of them stabs the victims," said a voice behind them.