Strangers In Death

“Okay, but if you get laid in the field, I expect to read the details thereof in your report. All the details.”

“Keep that up and you’ll usurp Jenkinson’s Sick Bastard title.”

“That’s a personal goal of mine. Dallas, are we getting anywhere? I mean, we know what we know. But are we getting anywhere toward bringing her down for it?”

“She won’t think so. And that’s why we’re getting somewhere. Get started on the interviews, full reports on all of them.”

“How many houseguests?”

“Sixteen houseguests, eight staff.”

“Twenty-four interviews? It’ll take hours.”

“Then I’d get started. Out.”

Eve picked up her ’link, and considered it a good omen when Roarke answered personally. “Lieutenant. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering how you’d feel about meeting me at a sex club.”

“How odd. I was just thinking what we might do this evening, and that was top of my list.”

“Bang She Bang, downtown on Spring. Does an hour from now work for you?”

“I can make it work considering the incentive.”

A stray thought brought on a scowl. “You don’t own it, do you?”

He cocked a brow. “I don’t believe I own any establishment with that name. I could probably pick it up within the hour if that would help.”

She’d bet more than Peabody’s twenty he could do just that. “No, thanks. I’ll just use the Power of Roarke to my advantage on this one.”

“I thought it was the Fear of Roarke.”

“Depends on the situation. I’m thinking power will squeeze more juice out of this one than fear.”

“Either are at your disposal. In an hour, Lieutenant.”

After he clicked off she made a few calls, scribbled a few notes, imagined sitting on her hands to keep herself from nagging Feeney.

Peabody hailed her as Eve started out. “I talked to the girl toy-Angel Scarlett. She got all choked up when I mentioned the old man. I don’t think she’s going to be wi

Peabody did a left-to-right swivel in her chair. “She and the old man had taken a nap-which she made sure I knew was a euphemism for boinking, then she went down to take a swim. She was in the pool with some of the other guests-and that’s consistent with their original statements-when the old man went down in the shower.”

Peabody glanced down at her notes. “Cocktails and canapes were being served out there. I asked casually about her hostess, and she was offhand about that. Ava was flitting around somewhere, like always. You were off on the martini. It was a gin and tonic, which was the old man’s summer drink of choice. Ava was mixing gin and tonics herself, and commented that the old man wasn’t down. Wouldn’t Tommy go up and tell his father they were all having cocktails. A few minutes later, he ran out on the terrace, up outside the old man’s room, yelled for help. He’d already called nine-one-one, already moved the body in an attempt to revive. That’s all in the reports. But I did get something new.”

“Stun me.”

“It probably won’t stun you that Angel wasn’t, and isn’t, Ava’s biggest fan. Cold, snobbish, self-righteous-and those were the compliments. And she said she thought things were a little chilly between Ava and the old man that weekend.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t know. Her ‘big white bear’ as she called him never talked business with her, and never gossiped about family. He didn’t care for it when she complained about Ava’s attitude toward her, so she kept it to herself. But she noticed they weren’t all chummy, as usual. Didn’t have coffee together by the pool that morning, and that was a habit of theirs. She suspected they’d had a little spat, but since she didn’t know, kept that to herself, too.”

“Write it up, log it in. I may have a line to tug on that. Later.”

The trip down to Spring, an exercise in tedium on the best days, became a pitched battle due to an overturned glide-cart and the stalled Rapid Cab that had crashed into its grill. Even from ten cars back, Eve could see it would only get worse as the cab driver and the cart operator were currently beating the snot out of each other.

Eve called it in, snapping out an order for a black-and-white or patrol droids. Pissed, she slammed out of her vehicle, whipping out her badge as she strode forward. Mostly, she noted, the two men were just rolling around on raw soy fries and dogs, bapping each other on the back.

“Break it up! NYPSD, and I said break it up.” She gave both of their shins a sharp rap with her boot. “Break it up or I’m hauling you both in. And as God is my witness, if any piece of either one of you makes contact with any piece of me, you’re serving the full pop on assaulting an officer.”

Both men lifted bloodied faces to hers, and began to shout complaints and accusations.

“Zip it! And you people! Go and find something else to do. Show’s over here. You, cab guy, what’s your story?”

“I’m cruising for a fare.” His voice was musical, a tropical island song that contrasted sharply with the bleeding mouth and swollen eye. “Guy’s hailing half a block down, and I go

“Fuck I did! Why’d I wa

“’Cause you crazy, man!”

Eve pointed at Cab Guy to shut him down.

“Your cart’s in the street, pal.” A scrapper, Eve noted, about half the size of Cab Guy, with New York as pugnacious in his tone and attitude as his bloody nose.

“Yeah, it’s in the ever-fucking street, but I didn’t shove it there. Goddamn kids did. Damn kids, they come along, and one’s ordering a dog and fries so I’m on him, you know? And another one of ’em musta flipped off my brakes. Next I know the bunch of ’em are shoving my cart off the corner. Laughing like hyenas. Look what they done to my cart.” He spread his arms wide as blood dribbled out of his nose. “What they want to do that for? I’m just trying to make a living here.”

“Can you ID them?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Look at my cart, wouldja? Look at my stuff.”

“I see these boys!” Cab Guy waved a hand in the air. “I see them go flying across the street. Airboards.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cart Guy bobbed his head. “They had airboards. Couple of them riding tandem. I didn’t see which way they went. I was trying to grab the cart, get to the brake, but the cab…” He shoved back his hair. “Man. Sorry about your cab.”

“Not your fault. I see the kids. I can help identify.” Cab Guy offered a unifying smile with bloodied teeth. “Sorry about your cart, man.”

Eve turned the situation over to a black-and-white and a couple of beat droids. Cab and Cart Guy were now enjoying solidarity. They’d be neighborhood kids, she assumed. And they’d likely roll another cart or two before the day was done. But damned if she was going to help track them down.

She was ten minutes over the hour already.

It came to a total of twenty minutes behind before she could park, flip her On Duty, and hit the sidewalk. She’d already seen him-her expert consultant, her superior lay. He leaned against the wall of the graffiti-scrawled, post-Urban War rattrap that held Bang She Bang, wearing a dark suit with the thi

His wrist unit was likely worth more than the building against which he braced. In this neighborhood with its funky junkies, chemi-heads, grifters, shifters, and spine crackers, a man’s life was at risk for his shoes. From her vantage point, she saw what Tiko would’ve called a suspicious character swagger in Roarke’s direction, his hand in his pocket and his fingers very likely closed over a sticker.

Roarke simply flicked his gaze up, over, locked them on. And suspicious character kept on swaggering by.