what you mean. Yeah, if we ever do get our hands on this guy, if he has a gun, and if a ballistics expert can match it to the bullet the doctor dug out of Quinn's shoulder, we could at least hang an attempted-murder charge on him. We're waiting for a ballistics report now. What I'm interested to see is whether that bullet matches the ones taken from four of Nightshade's previous victims.”
Wolfe spoke up for the first time to say, “If it does, you'll know that Nightshade is in the city and that Quinn came very close to him that night.”
“Too close,” Morgan said.
“Too close in more ways than one,” Jared said. “If it was Nightshade, it's at least possible that he now knows someone has been shadowing him, following him across rooftops. And the police don't usually work that way.”
“But another thief might.” Morgan didn't like the hollow sound of her own voice.
“Another thief might,” Jared agreed. “So Nightshade has to be wondering who's following him. And why.”
“Then there's this new wrinkle,” Storm said. “A murdered woman possibly connected to the museum. Inspector Tyler and his people are being awfully cagey about the connection, but just from their manner I'd say they're pretty damned sure there is one.”
“So we have to assume the same thing,” Wolfe said. “First the Ace employee being blackmailed and then murdered and now this.” He was gazing steadily at Jared. “There's two lives that might have been saved if nobody had planned to display the Bannister collection.”
Jared didn't flinch away from that hard stare. “And God knows how many Nightshade will kill if we don't stop him here and now. Just for the record, I'm betting the police will rule out Nightshade in the Jane Doe murder.”
“Why?” Morgan asked.
“Because in virtually every case, Nightshade has left his victims where they fell, and they've tended to fall at the scene of one of his robberies. This woman was found near nothing of value to a thief, and no break-in or theft was reported. Plus, according to my sources she was stabbed; Nightshade always uses a gun. And as far as we know, he's always taken credit for his crimes. That dead-rose calling card.”
“Which means,” Storm said, “we could have yet another player in the game. And this one has his own set of rules. Very nasty rules.”
CHAPTER
FOUR
“A ny luck?” Keane asked Gillian as they met up near the museum's lobby.
“Not so you'd notice.” She sighed, pushing an errant strand of brown hair back off her face. “I just talked to the last of the cleaning crew, and none of them recognizes our Jane Doe.”
“And I just talked to the last guard on the list. Same deal. Doesn't know her, never noticed her here.”
“It's Wednesday,” Gillian pointed out. “We've talked to every soul who's worked for or in the museum during the last six months. Nada. Unless our next step is to start tracking and questioning visitors, I'd say we've hit a dead end.”
He scowled. “No luck searching the basement?”
“Have you
been
in the basement?” she asked politely. “Our people can't effectively search down there. A trained archaeologist or historian might spot something out of place—given a few years and a little luck. Seriously, it's like the bargain basement from hell.”
“But they looked around down there?”
“Oh, yeah. Checked windows and doors, peered around with flashlights, scared themselves silly turning corners to find Bronze Age warriors staring back at them. One of our rookies nearly shot a marble Greek woman holding an urn.”
“Shit.”
“Uh-huh. Getting the creeps aside, it's sort of hard to search a place like that, especially when you don't know what you're looking for. And after Pete was lost for nearly half an hour, somebody suggested we leave trails of bread crumbs.”
“So we have no connection between Jane Doe and this museum except for the scrap of paper deliberately left on the body.”
“Looks that
Wolfe spoke up for the first time to say, “If it does, you'll know that Nightshade is in the city and that Quinn came very close to him that night.”
“Too close,” Morgan said.
“Too close in more ways than one,” Jared said. “If it was Nightshade, it's at least possible that he now knows someone has been shadowing him, following him across rooftops. And the police don't usually work that way.”
“But another thief might.” Morgan didn't like the hollow sound of her own voice.
“Another thief might,” Jared agreed. “So Nightshade has to be wondering who's following him. And why.”
“Then there's this new wrinkle,” Storm said. “A murdered woman possibly connected to the museum. Inspector Tyler and his people are being awfully cagey about the connection, but just from their manner I'd say they're pretty damned sure there is one.”
“So we have to assume the same thing,” Wolfe said. “First the Ace employee being blackmailed and then murdered and now this.” He was gazing steadily at Jared. “There's two lives that might have been saved if nobody had planned to display the Bannister collection.”
Jared didn't flinch away from that hard stare. “And God knows how many Nightshade will kill if we don't stop him here and now. Just for the record, I'm betting the police will rule out Nightshade in the Jane Doe murder.”
“Why?” Morgan asked.
“Because in virtually every case, Nightshade has left his victims where they fell, and they've tended to fall at the scene of one of his robberies. This woman was found near nothing of value to a thief, and no break-in or theft was reported. Plus, according to my sources she was stabbed; Nightshade always uses a gun. And as far as we know, he's always taken credit for his crimes. That dead-rose calling card.”
“Which means,” Storm said, “we could have yet another player in the game. And this one has his own set of rules. Very nasty rules.”
CHAPTER
FOUR
“A ny luck?” Keane asked Gillian as they met up near the museum's lobby.
“Not so you'd notice.” She sighed, pushing an errant strand of brown hair back off her face. “I just talked to the last of the cleaning crew, and none of them recognizes our Jane Doe.”
“And I just talked to the last guard on the list. Same deal. Doesn't know her, never noticed her here.”
“It's Wednesday,” Gillian pointed out. “We've talked to every soul who's worked for or in the museum during the last six months. Nada. Unless our next step is to start tracking and questioning visitors, I'd say we've hit a dead end.”
He scowled. “No luck searching the basement?”
“Have you
been
in the basement?” she asked politely. “Our people can't effectively search down there. A trained archaeologist or historian might spot something out of place—given a few years and a little luck. Seriously, it's like the bargain basement from hell.”
“But they looked around down there?”
“Oh, yeah. Checked windows and doors, peered around with flashlights, scared themselves silly turning corners to find Bronze Age warriors staring back at them. One of our rookies nearly shot a marble Greek woman holding an urn.”
“Shit.”
“Uh-huh. Getting the creeps aside, it's sort of hard to search a place like that, especially when you don't know what you're looking for. And after Pete was lost for nearly half an hour, somebody suggested we leave trails of bread crumbs.”
“So we have no connection between Jane Doe and this museum except for the scrap of paper deliberately left on the body.”
“Looks that
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