Imitation in Death

“There was a man, a couple of weeks ago. She helped him pick out some produce, struck up a conversation.”

“Just like her.” He pulled out the banda

“He went out with her, carried her bags. Nice-looking guy, probably under forty.”

“Mrs. Gregg, she was always talking to somebody in here. Let me think.” He raked his hands through his thatch of salt-and-pepper hair, screwed up his narrow face. “Yeah, couple Fridays back, she took this guy under her wing, picked out some nice grapes for him, some tomatoes, head of romaine, radishes, carrots, got a pound of peaches.”

“Can you tell me as much about him as what he bought?”

Vincenti cracked his first smile. “Not so much. She brought him up with her-I always checked Mrs. Gregg out-and she says: ‘Now, Mr. Vincenti, I want you to take good care of my new friend, Al, when he comes in here by himself. He’s got a little boy who needs your best produce.’ I say something like, ‘I got nothing but the best.’”

“What did he say?”

“Don’t recall that he did. Smiled a lot. Had on a ball cap, now that I think. And sunshades. This heat, most everybody’s got on a cap and shades.”

“Tall, short?”

“Ah, damn me.” He mopped at his sweaty face with the banda

“She come in for them?”

“Sure, this past Friday. Five pounds. I put them in a little basket for her, let her take them home in it ‘cause she’s a good customer.”

“The guy who went out with her, has he come back?”

“I haven’t seen him again. I don’t come in on Wednesdays, like to golf on Wednesdays, so he coulda come in and I wouldn’t know. But if he’d come back any other day, I’m here. You think that’s the guy? You think that’s the sick prick who killed Mrs. Gregg?”

“Just covering the ground, Mr. Vincenti. I appreciate the help.”

“You need any more, you need anything, you come see me. She was a jewel.”

– -«»--«»--«»--

“You think he might be the killer,” Peabody said as they walked the neighborhood, following the route Leah had outlined for them.

“I think he was being a smart-ass, introducing himself with the nameAl -AlbertDeSalvo, the method he pla

He knew how to research,Eve thought. Knew how to take his time, get the data, digest it before he made a move.

“A woman does time in day-care, voluntarily, she’s into kids, so he tells her he’s got a kid when he makes his first contact.”

She nodded as she spoke, as she studied the neighborhood. It was smart. It was simple. “Good place to make that contact is the market. Ask her for advice, give her a story about having a kid needing day-care. Walk her part of the way home. Not all the way. He doesn’t have to, he knows where she lives. Just like he knows her plans for Sunday. Not the next Sunday, the following, so he can have plenty of time to watch her, get it all down, plan it out, enjoy the anticipation.”

She stopped on the corner, watched people walk by, most with the nativeNew York stare that stopped well short of eye contact. Not a tourist sector, she acknowledged. People lived and worked here, went about their business.

“She’d have strolled, though,”Eve said aloud. “Strolled along with him, chatting, giving him what seemed like harmless little details of her life. Peaches for her daughter, but there wasn’t a basket of peaches in the apartment on Sunday. He took them. A nice edible souvenir to go with the ring. Walked out of her place after he did what he did, carrying a little basket of fruit. I bet he got a real kick out of that, really enjoyed taking a big juicy bite.”

Feet planted, she hooked her thumbs in her pockets, too intent on what she was seeing in her head to notice the quick and wary glances tossed her way when her stance revealed her weapon. “But that’s a mistake, a stupid, cocky mistake. People might not notice some guy walking out of an apartment building with a toolbox, but they might, just might, notice one walking out with a basket of peaches and a toolbox.”

She crossed the street, stood on the next corner, and judged the ground. “Glide-carts aren’t going to be up and ru

“Yes, sir. Lieutenant, I just want to say it’s a real pleasure to watch you work.”

“What’re you angling for, Peabody?”

“No, seriously, it’s an education to watch you, see what you see, and how you see it. But now that you mention it, it’s pretty hot. Maybe we could, since they are up and ru

“A what?”

“You know… I’m melting.”

With a half-snort, Eve dug credits out of her pocket. “Get me a tube of Pepsi, and tell him if it’s not cold I’m going to come over there and hurt him.”

While Peabody clomped off, Eve stood on the corner, her imagination ru

And every cell of the cop told her it was.

Southern, she thought. Had he told her he was from the South? Most likely. Used an accent, or had one. Used, she decided. Just another little flourish.

Peabody came back with the drinks, a scoop of fries, and a veggie kabob. “Got you the scoop, heavy on the salt, so you wouldn’t sneer at my kabob.”

“I can still sneer at a kabob. I’ll always sneer at veggies on a stick.” But she dug into the scoop. “We’ll head down this way, swing into the dress shop. Maybe he paid a visit there, too.”

– -«»--«»--«»--

There were two clerks on duty at the boutique and both began to weep openly the minute Eve mentioned Lois’ name. One of them went to the door, put up the Closed sign.

“I just can’t take it in. I keep expecting her to walk in and tell us it was some sort of horrible joke.” The tall clerk, with her greyhound’s lithe body, patted her companion’s back as the younger woman sobbed into her hands. “I was going to close the shop for the day, but I don’t know what we’d do with ourselves.”

“This your place?” Eve asked.

“Yes. Lois worked for me for ten years. She was great, with the staff, with the customers, with the stock. She could’ve run the place single-handedly if she’d wanted. I’m going to miss her so much.”

“She was like a mother to me.” The sobbing woman lifted her head. “I’m getting married in October, and she was helping me with so much of it. We were having the best time with all the plans, and now, now she won’t be there.”

“I know this is hard, but I need to ask you some questions.”

“We want to help. Don’t we, Addy?”

“Anything.” The woman got her sobbing under control. “Absolutely anything.”

Eve took them through the usual questions, wound her way around to the man Vincenti had described.