The Venus Fix

Thirty-Three

Less than twenty-four hours after arriving in New York, Detective Jordain had flown back to New Orleans and appeared in court for the Hatterly trial, for what he hoped would be the last time. He spent a half hour on the stand and as soon as he stepped down, Jordain was again thinking about the two victims in New York. Once he was back in a taxi and on his way to the Louis Armstrong airport, he called Perez to get an update.

“ZaZa, whose real name was Cindy Conners, has been working for Global Communications for the past two years. Same company Debra Kamel worked for. Conners was an actress. Easy work in between auditions, I guess. She never landed much-mostly extra work-but she took a lot of classes over the years. Tania’s an actress, too.”

“That where they met?”

“We don’t know yet, but one can assume.”

Jordain watched the scenery whiz by. Leaving New Orleans was always bittersweet. Home had a pull all its own, even after he outgrew it.

“Did the forensic team find anything at the apartment?”

“Not yet. If anyone left behind one fiber, one hair, a single speck of dirt that had been stuck in the tread of a shoe, they’re going to find it.”

“Sometimes I think you believe the cop shows you watch on television. Even if someone left a fiber behind, what will it mean to us unless the same person left the same fiber behind at Debra’s apartment and we find that one?”

“The TV shows are modeled after us, not the other way around. Don’t get confused on me,” Perez interrupted.

Jordain smiled and gulped lukewarm coffee from a foam cup. No matter, it was still his drug and would work its trick, regardless of its temperature.

“And, no. We don’t have anything yet on Debra Kamel’s apartment. I know that was your next question.”

“No, actually, I was going to ask you how Tania is.”

“It’s still touch-and-go.”

“Butler have any luck with the computers?”

“Still at it.”

“We’re going to find something on the computers.”

“I hope so. But ZaZa’s laptop is pretty much shot to hell.”

“We don’t have an option on this. We need to find something, and soon.” Jordain wasn’t surprised Perez didn’t ask why. They both knew.

How many more girls were targeted?

How many could they save?

Damn. This case was getting under his skin. They all did. But there was something about this one that disgusted him. Maybe it was the spectacle of it. The horror of knowing that while these women gasped for their last breath, naked and vulnerable, they were on view before thousands and thousands of men who were sitting out in the wild blue yonder, all over the globe, watching them, jerking off to them, coming in their hands to them, without realizing that the girls were dying in front of their eyes.

“If they’re going to die, they should at least be afforded some dignity.”

Jordain hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud until he heard Perez’s sigh.