He could overrule her, and she’d accept that. She expected he’d temperthat with a deadline. Though she knew he’d have read all her reports, she made her case.
“I know what he is, Commander. He’s rich, he’s spoiled, and he’s a second-rate artist at best. I lean toward family money and an indulgent mother. He drives a luxury vehicle, he lives, in my opinion, in an area from Tribeca up to the Village—possibly Chelsea. A private home—and it’s a luxury because he can’t settle for less. It has to have a garage or a place for his transportation. That has to be on-site.
“He’s single, around thirty, he’s white. He wants to make an impression, but he doesn’t. People don’t remember him well, or remember his work. He sees himself as great, as not just a master, but better than those who earned that title over the centuries.
“He’s taken time, a lot of time, trouble, expense to create the art he’s killing for. The time, trouble, and expense to have the costumes replicated. Perfectly, every single detail. French and Italian silks and satins, handmade Irish lace—and all of that’s being tracked. We will find who made the costumes, and find him.
“His mistake is that need for exacting details. Not the victims, they just have to fit, have to be close enough. They’re nothing but a vehicle. He takes their lives because his work lacks it.
“But the rest?” she continued as Whitney drank his coffee and watched her. “It has to be just right, otherwise he can’t prove he’s better than the artist he copies. The wigs, the hats, the pigments used. The glue and wires to hold the pose exactly. The paintbrushes he—”
She turned on her heel, stared at the brushes on her copy of the original, on the crime scene shot.
“Son of a bitch! Wait!”
She ran out of the office and straight to Peabody’s desk. “The paintbrushes. Where’s an eighteenth-century French artist going to get the brushes?”
“I—”
“France! They have to be exact. Focus on people or companies who make custom brushes in France. Forget New York, forget the rest. France. The first one, the earring girl. Vermeer. Dutch, right? Where would she have gotten the outfit?”
She shoved at her hair. “The material—on the vic—French again. But people traveled back then. They traded. But somebody had to make it—the original.”
“She might have made it herself.”
“Maybe, but somebody had to make it.” Pacing the bullpen, she yanked out her ’link and tagged Roarke. “Tell me if you don’t have time and I’ll put someone else on it.”
“I’ll make time. What am I making it for?”
“The Dutch painter, that one. Where the hell are Dutch people from?”
“The Netherlands, darling.”
“Okay, there. Costumes, high-end from there for that one. The second guy, Brit, right? So—”
“I’m following you. It’ll take some time. I’ll get back to you.”
She shoved the ’link back in her pocket. “That’s how he does it. Exact, precise. Duplicate as close as possible to the original, and that spreads it out. No big multiple orders from one source.
“He’s not going to have them shipped. He can’t demand any adjustments, can’t see and feel them at the source if they ship them. He goes there to vet them, approve them, bring them home. Private shuttle.”
She turned. “Detective Carmichael, start checking for private shuttles from New York to the Netherlands, to England, to France, most likely one trip for all three. Start with all three. There may be other locations, but those three.
“Shit, Ireland. Add Ireland, he had the lace made there.
“Detective Hat, luxury hotels—shit, he may have a second home, but luxury hotels in those four locations. Impressions,” she muttered. “If he’dhad an accent, they’d remember that. You’re looking for an American, from New York who stayed in all four locations, no more than a few nights in each, and all within…”
She hissed. “Damn it, can’t afford to narrow it. The last two years. Can’t find that, work it with three. Bonus round for two trips. Detective Trueheart, are you clear?”
“I can be, sir.”
“Peabody’s got a list of fabrics, yardage included. I want to know if an American man, late twenties, white, came in personally to select those fabrics. Same time period. Start with the three locations.
“Peabody.”
“Working on it. He’d have picked up the brushes. Dallas, the pigments.”
“He got them over there. In Europe. Baxter, New York, fancy cheese places. Same description. West Side up to Chelsea. Saint-Nectaire cheese.”
