“If team one doesn’t have the suspect under control by the time the rest of the house is cleared, they—which includes me—deserve an ass-kicking. In that event, I trust the rest of you can handle him.”
“Who delivers the ass-kicking?” Jenkinson wanted to know.
“In that eventuality, Detective Sergeant, you are the ranking officer in Homicide.”
He gave her a sober nod, with his eyes twinkling. “I’ll bear that responsibility, Loo.”
“I have no doubt you’d perform that duty with enthusiasm and skill. Meanwhile, there’s another area on the third floor. McNab?” She highlighted it. “Enhance this room. It’s billed as storage, but—”
“Walls are too thick,” Baxter said. “And check the ceiling. It’s lower than the rest of the floor. I dated an architect.” He added a wistful smile. “She was fine. Looks like they added girth to the walls, the floor, the ceiling. You sure don’t need that for storage. Safe room.”
“Did it without a permit,” Carmichael said. “I dated a contractor. Some palms got greased along the way.”
“I agree, both counts. Captain Feeney and Roarke are working to confirm it.”
“Just did.” Feeney strode into the room. His basset hound eyes showed pure satisfaction. “Turns out the suspect’s father’s brother-in-law has a company that designs and manufactures safes, lockboxes, vaults, and panic rooms. They call ’em secure rooms. We did a track back on the e’s installed, the infrastructure. That area’s loaded. Full house and exterior cams, data and communication, hardwired D and C, temp and air flow control separate from the rest of the house.”
“Basically, it’s a large vault.” Roarke carried what looked like a small toolbox. “But with amenities.”
“Can you shut it down?”
“Certainly. It would add a bit of time, but yes.”
She glanced at the toolbox. “New toys?”
He only smiled. “Tools adjusted for the purpose.”
“Peabody, check with Reo on the warrants. Feeney, looks like two vans.”
“Already went there.”
“You’re team four, rear entrance. Droid or droids need to be shut down. Roarke, team one, in the front and straight up. When we’re clear, we go Q and Q—quick and quiet. We clear, we secure the suspect, and we provide safety for any civilian who may be with him.”
She turned to Roarke. “How much additional time to shut down the panic room?”
“I’ll do better there once inside. It’s on a separate system, of course. So the same twenty, we’d say, for eyes, ears, shutdown, and to gain entry. Then it would take one or two, possibly three, to shut down that accessibility.”
“If he goes for it, manages to get in before you shut it down?”
“Same answer. With what I have now, one to three to shut it down, open the door. He won’t be able to hide for long, Lieutenant.”
She thought: Solid, then looked back at the screen.
“McNab, bring the suspect up, full screen. There he is. He doesn’t look like much, but he’s killed three people in three days. He spent months planning it, and he’s not finished. We’re going to make sure he’s never going to finish.
“Any questions?”
There were a few. Good cops always had a few questions, she thought.
When she’d answered, she scanned the room.
Every one of them could’ve been kicked back watching the game, drinking a brew. And every one of them was exactly where they wanted to be.
“Warrants came through, Dallas.”
“Okay then. Garage, level one. Jenkinson, drive the first van with McNab, Santiago, Carmichael, Reineke. Feeney at the wheel of the next with the rest of us. Everyone run checks on your earbuds. Once in the residence, we go silent. Hand signals or clicks only.”
“Eve, I can come in to observe once you bring him in if that’s helpful.”
