Salvation in death

“Your father sounds like a smart man.” And the quick math she did in her head told her Julio’s death was too early to apply to Lino.

“He is, and a tough one. I’ll talk to him tonight.”

“Appreciate it. One other thing. I’m told the vic ran regularly in the morning, and the route took him by your grandfather’s house.”

“Yes, that’s true. Poppy mentioned it sometimes. How he joked with the fathers to throw a blessing at the house as they passed. And he might see them when he was out for his morning walk.”

“So no friction there?”

“Between Poppy and the priests, or this one who wasn’t? No. None. Very much the opposite. The victim often ate in Poppy’s restaurant, or even-especially when my grandmother was alive-his home. He came to family parties. He was, we thought, one of us.”

“Okay.”

Alone, Eve moved back to her board. Rearranged photos, evidence shots. Walked around it, arranged again. Co

She stepped back to her desk, tagged McNab. “Give me something,” she demanded.

“Ran down two of the Linos,” he told her. “One’s living in Mexico, living in a kind of commune deal. Changed his name, which is why he slipped through some cracks. Goes by Lupa Vincenta, all legal and shit. It’s a kind of Free-Ager offshoot. Guy’s shaved his head and wears this brown robe deal. Raises goats. And is alive and well, if you count wearing an ugly brown robe well, which if you ask me-”

“I didn’t.”

“Okay. The other’s been skimming under the radar, avoiding a couple of ex-wives, who he was married to at the same time. He’s in Chile-or was when I tracked him-and the last track was less than three months ago. He weighs in at about two-fifty. Probably skipped by now, as both women have suits pending against him. Apparently, he’s got about six legal offspring, and he’s dodging the child support thing.”

“Prince of a guy. Pass on the info to the proper authorities.”

“Already done. You get kids, you take care of them. Working on another one now.”

She’d figured as much, as McNab was bopping on the screen. She’d never known an e-geek who could keep still when he worked.

Except Roarke, she corrected.

“I keep losing him,” McNab added. “He bounced a lot, switched names, then switched back. What I get is he’d get a little twisted up with some deal under an aka, take off, show up under his real, play it straight, then move on, take another alias.”

“What’s his real?”

“Lino Salvadore Martinez.”

Eve brought it up on her machine. “Right age, right location at birth. Keep looking.” Eve clicked off, then refreshed her memory of Martinez’s data. Both parents on record, she noted, but whereabouts of the father unknown-and unknown since Martinez hit five years of age. Mother, Teresa, applied and received professional mother status and payments after the birth. Previous employment… Eve extended the search, then sat back. “Hector Ortiz-Abuelo’s. Interesting. Yeah, that’s pretty interesting. Returned to outside work when her son reached the age of fifteen-as a waitress for Ortiz again. Where she worked for six years before remarrying and relocating to Brooklyn. Okay, Teresa.”

She noted down the current address. “I think we need to have a little chat.”

She pulled out her communicator to contact Peabody. “What’s your status,” she said when Peabody popped on-screen.

“I’m just walking into Central. We had the best-”

“Meet me in the garage. We’re going to Brooklyn.”

“Oh. Okay, why-”

But Eve simply cut her off, tucked the communicator away, and started out. She nearly walked straight into Baxter. “No way you finished those searches.”

“No way I’ll finish those searches in the next twenty man-hours. You’ve got a couple of visitors. A Luke Goodwin, a Samuel Wright, and a Billy Crocker.”

“Quicker than I thought.” She stepped back into her office, signaling Baxter to follow. “I need to secure an interview room. Hold on.”

She ordered her computer to scan for availability, and book her Interview C. “Okay, tell them I’m going to be a few minutes, escort them to Interview. Make nice, offer refreshments.”

“That’s going to take time off my current assignment.”

“Half of which you’ve already passed off to your aide. Trueheart can keep it going while you get these guys settled. If I get my confession out of Crocker, have him booked and in a cage within the next ninety minutes.” She checked her wrist unit. “From now, I’ll take half of what’s left of the search off your hands.”

“Deal.”

When he walked out, Eve tagged Peabody again. “Change of plans, come up, meet me outside Interview C. We’ve got Crocker and company.”

“Jeez. If I was a lesser person, it would piss me off, how often you’re right.”

“Since I am a lesser person, you’ll be good cop in today’s performance.”

Eve cut Peabody off, then contacted both Whitney’s and Mira’s offices to relay her prime suspect on the Jenkins homicide was in the house.

“Okay, Billy,” she murmured. “Let’s see what you have to say for yourself.”

She took her time, to give Baxter a chance to settle them in and Peabody a chance to reroute from the garage. She already had her strategy outlined in her mind, and had adjusted that somewhat after her meet with Mira. Due to that, she wasn’t surprised that Billy had come in with Luke.

The confessor, she thought.

She slipped into Observation first, studied the setup. Billy sat at the table, flanked by the victim’s sons-in-law. The lawyer looked grim, with his gaze cut away from Billy. Luke looked… sorrowful, Eve thought. A more sophisticated lay-version of López, to her eye.

And Billy himself? Jittery, scared, and on the edge of weepy.

She stepped back out as Peabody hoofed down the corridor.

“He brought his priest and his lawyer,” Eve said.

“Priest?”

“In a ma

Peabody ’s face went wistful. “Am I ever going to be able to be bad cop?”

“Sure, as soon as you’re willing to kick a puppy out of the way to take down a suspect.”

“Aww, does it have to be a puppy?”

“Keep that save-the-puppy look on your face. It’s perfect.” Eve opened the door, nodded to Baxter. “Thank you, Detective. Mr. Goodwin, Mr. Wright, Mr. Crocker.”

“My client wishes to make a statement,” Samuel began.

“Great. Hold that thought. Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve,” she began and ran all the particulars as she took a seat. “Mr. Crocker, you’ve been read your rights, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And have stated, for the record, that you understand your rights and obligations in the matter of the investigation into the death of James Jay Jenkins.”

“Yes, I-”

“And have come into this interview of your own volition, and with Samuel Wright as legal counsel?”

Billy cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“You would also like Mr. Goodwin to witness this statement, at this time?”

“Yes.”

“I am here to bear witness,” Luke said, “and to serve as Billy’s spiritual adviser. Lieutenant Dallas, this is very difficult, for all of us. I hope you’ll take into account that Billy has come in, voluntarily, that the statement he intends to make is sincere and heartfelt.”

“I think, of all co

“Don’t answer that. Lieutenant Dallas,” Samuel began in a tight voice, “my client is willing to make a statement, in return for consideration.”