Creation In Death

“No, they have it. Thanks for cooperating.”

He dropped down into a chair in his office, a glass box that allowed him to view all the areas on that level of the center. Outside it, people pumped, sweated, trotted, flexed, and twisted.

“We’re pals, you know? I can’t get through the idea something may have happened to her. But I’m telling you, she can take care of herself. That’s what I think. She’s tough.”

“Anybody ask for her specifically in the last few weeks?” Eve asked him.

“Yeah, like I told the other guys. She’d get referrals from clients. Word of mouth. She’s good at what she does, gets results, but doesn’t drill sergeant the client into it.”

“How about older guys, say over sixty?”

“Sure. Sure. Fitness isn’t just for kids, you know. She has some clients like that, and we get them in for classes. She runs a tai chi class twice a week, a yoga class every other morning geared for the over-sixty group. Twice a week she has classes geared for the cente

“She pick up anybody new in any of those in the last few weeks?”

“Like I told the others, if you’re a member you don’t have to sign up for any of the classes. You just come in, take whichever you want.”

“How about anybody who joined in, say, the last thirty days. Male, over fifty, let’s say.”

“I can get you that. But you don’t have to have joined at this location. If you hold a membership from any of our clubs-that’s global-you just key in.”

“You have a record of who’s keyed in? You keep track of how your members use the facilities, how often they use them, who pays the fee for a trainer?”

“Sure. Sure. That kind of data goes straight to the main offices. But I can-”

“I can get that,” Eve told him. “No problem. Did she take outside clients?”

“That’s against policy,” he began.

“We’re not worried about policy, Pi. She’s not going to get jammed up if she pulled in some extra on the side. We want to find her.”

“Yeah, well, maybe she did.” He puffed out his cheeks, blew out the air. “Somebody’s willing to pay you stiff for going to their house for an hour a couple times a week, it’s hard to flip it. We’re pals, but I’m management. She knows I know, and like that, but we don’t talk about it. Not really.”

“How about a sense, since you were pals, if she took on a private client recently?”

He puffed out his cheeks again. “She sprang for Knicks tickets-courtside. We’re going to the game next week. My birthday. Son of a bitch.” He smoothed his hands over his shaved head. “Pretty much out of her range. She joked, said she’d hit a little jackpot. I figured she’d gotten a side fee, a couple of them maybe.”

“When did she get the tickets?”

“A few weeks ago. Look, you need to find her, okay? You just need to find her.”

8

OUTSIDE, EVE WALKED THE ROUTE GIA HABITUALLY took to the subway. The woman was a New Yorker, Eve mused. Which meant she’d move along at a brisk pace, and though her radar would be on, she’d be inside her own thoughts.

Might be a window-shopper, Eve thought. Might stop and study a display, even go inside a shop. But…

“Baxter and Trueheart checked out the stores and markets along the route,” she said to Peabody. “Nobody remembers seeing her that day. Some clerks recognized her picture. Previous visits. But not on the day she poofed.”

“She didn’t make it to the station.”

“No. Maybe she wasn’t going to the station.” Eve turned, sidestepping toward the buildings as New York bustled by. “Had extra dough, enough for a pair of courtsides. She takes an outside client. Maybe the client’s address is within walking distance. Or he provided cab fare or transportation.”

And considering this, she factored in Baxter’s point about the potential age difference, and the fact that Gia Rossi had been a trainer, in peak physical condition.

“Maybe she walked right into it. Maybe she walked right into his nest.”

“He doesn’t grab her. He just opens the door.”

“Slick,” Eve said softly. “Yeah, that would be slick. Contact Newkirk. I want him and the other uniforms canvassing this area. All directions, five blocks.” Eve headed toward the car. “I want her picture shown to every clerk, waitperson, sidewalk sleeper, doorman, and droid. Get McNab,” she added as she climbed behind the wheel. “I want him to send her picture to every cab company and private transpo service. Bus companies, air trams. Hit them all. Then the Transit Authority. Check the run for that night on other stations. She didn’t use her pass, but maybe she took a ride anyway.”

Peabody was already relaying to Newkirk.

“She went to him,” Eve said before she swung out into traffic. “That’s what I think. She went right to him.”

Following the hunch, she contacted Zela at home.

“Yes?” Obviously half asleep, Zela stifled a yawn. “Lieutenant? What-”

“Did Sarifina ever give private lessons?”

“Private lessons? I’m sorry, I’m a little foggy.”

“Dance lessons. Did she ever give private dance lessons?”

“Now and again, sure. People want to be able to do the moves for special occasions. Weddings, bar or bat mitzvahs, reunions. That sort of thing.”

“At the club, or at the client’s home?”

“Generally at the club. Mornings when we’re closed.”

“Generally,” Eve pressed, “but there were exceptions.”

“Give me a second.” Zela moved as she spoke, and Eve heard the beep of an AutoChef. “I worked until nearly three last night, then took a pill. I haven’t been sleeping well since…I need to clear my head.”

“Zela.” Impatience ground through Eve’s voice. “I need to know if Sarifina went to clients’ homes.”

“Every once in a while, particularly for the older clients. Or the kids. Sometimes parents want their kids to learn. Or an older couple wants to swing it a little-for an occasion, or a cruise. But usually, we do that sort of thing here, through the club.”

“Had she taken on any personal clients in the last few weeks?”

“Just let me think, okay? Let me think.” Zela gulped down what Eve assumed was coffee. “She may have. She was an easy touch, you know? Liked to do favors for people. We didn’t check that kind of thing off with each other all the time. But if it was through the club, I mean if she was going to instruct someone here, she’d have noted in down. The club gets a cut of the fee, and Sari was religious about keeping good records on that.”

“No cut if she went to them?”

“Well, that’s a gray area. Like I said, she liked to do favors. She might go give someone an hour or two, cutting her rate, doing it off the books. On her own time, before or after work, on her day off. What’s the harm?”

What’s the harm? Eve thought as she clicked off.

“We figured he grabbed them off the street. But they went to him. These two, at least, my money says they went right to him. How’d they get there?”

“York’s image has been out since yesterday. Weekend, though,” Peabody added. “If she took a cab, the driver might not have paid any attention, or might not have seen the reports on her yet.”

“No. No. We have to run it down, but that would be sloppy, and he isn’t sloppy. Why take a chance like that? Leave a record, a possible wit? Cab driver dumps the vic right at his door? Doesn’t play.”

“Well, the same thing applies to private transpo.”

“Not if he’s providing it. Personally. We check anyway, we check all the transits. All the pickups in the area the vics were last seen.”

Man hours, wasted hours, Eve thought. And still it had to be done. “He’s not going to chance something like that. Lures them in, that’s what he does. Nice, harmless guy, nice older gentleman who wants to learn to tango, wants to get fit. There’s a nice, sweet fee for the personal service. Provides transportation for them.”

“Nobody sees them on the street because they’re not on the street that long.” Peabody nodded as the theory solidified for her. “They come out of work, get into a waiting vehicle. Nobody’s going to notice. But…”