Strangers In Death

“Suza

“Detective Yancy executed a composite of Ava with the style and color of hair witnesses reported re Ned Custer,” Eve added. “We’re going to find somebody who’ll put her in the bar, in the flop.”

“Do it, because I’d love to bring her down.” Reo closed her notebook. “Can you get me a confession?”

“That’s the plan. I need to get her out of the house so we can go in and cop the wig without her being aware. Feeney, I need you to mock me up a disposable ’link exactly like that one. We’ve got her statements on record. I want to hear her voice come out of it. Baxter, talk to Suza

“What am I giving immunity for?”

“We’ll get to that. I want Petrelli and Gordon in here, and the night clerk from the flop. Trueheart I’m going to be sending you to bring Ava in.”

He blinked as if something had flown into his eyes. “Sending me?”

“You won’t worry her. You’re too young and pretty, and you’re going to apologize. If she cries lawyer, she cries lawyer, but I don’t think she will. Not right off. Take another uniform. A young, green one. I’ll tell you when to go, and how to handle her. What are you smiling at?” she asked Roarke.

“It’s such an interesting show you’re pla

“Yeah, so let’s work out the song and the dance.”

It wasn’t a stretch for Trueheart to appear apologetic and accommodating. Even with seasoning a la Baxter, he remained a sweet-natured, happy-to-help kind of guy. Young and fresh, and-to the careless or cynical eye-not all that smart. What Ava saw were two young, handsome, somewhat bumbling cops who seemed embarrassed with their current duty.

“I’m awfully sorry, ma’am.” Trueheart added a pained smile. “I know it’s an inconvenience, especially at such a difficult time, but the lieutenant-”

“Yes, it’s very inconvenient, and a very difficult time. I fail to see why I should have to go downtown. Why doesn’t the lieutenant come to me?”

“Um, she would, ma’am, but she’s in this meeting with the commander and the chief, about the, ah…the, ah, media problem in regards to the case.”

“Taking some licks for it.” The second uniform delivered his first scripted line on cue.

“Come on.” Trueheart frowned him down. “And I believe Chief Tibble would like to personally apologize to you about the media stuff. So we were sent to transport you down to Central.”

“Young man, I understand you’re just following orders, but you can’t possibly expect to bundle me in the back of a police car, to add that kind of mortification on top of everything else.”

“Ah, well, um…” Trueheart glanced at his companion, who only shrugged helplessly. “If you wanted to call a cab, I guess-I don’t know. Maybe I could call in and ask-”

“Nonsense, that’s just nonsense. I’ll take my own car. I’m free to come and go as I please, aren’t I? I’m not under arrest, am I?”

“Oh gosh, no, ma’am. I mean, yes, ma’am on the first part. We could follow you in. I’m sure that’s okay, and I could arrange a parking permit in the VIP visitor lot. Would that be all right?”

“I’d think it’s the least you could do, and thank you. Now, I’ll have to ask you to wait outside while I-”

“You didn’t do the RM.” The second cop delivered his next line, and Trueheart flushed and shifted his feet.

“I don’t know that we’re supposed to-”

“My sergeant kicked my ass-pardon me, ma’am-for not just yesterday. I don’t want to screw up again.”

“Okay, okay. I’m awful sorry, Mrs. Anders, but we’re just going to read you the Revised Miranda before we go, since you’re going to be talking to the lieutenant about the investigation. A formality thing.” Trueheart added an earnest, and nervous smile. “Is that all right with you?”

“Fine, fine, fine.” Ava waved him on. “Hurry it up. I don’t want a police car outside my house all afternoon.”

“Yes, ma’am. Well. You have the right to remain silent.” To add to the picture, Trueheart pulled out a small card with the warning printed on it, and read it with intense concentration. He hoped it wasn’t overplayed. “Um. Do you understand your-”

“Am I an idiot?” Ava snapped. “Of course I understand. Now, shoo, I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” After the door shut in his face, Trueheart walked back to the police car with his companion. “Dallas is a solid genius,” he stated, then engaged his communicator. “It’s Trueheart, Lieutenant.”

At Central, Eve fueled up on coffee. “Trueheart’s following her in. I want the sweepers on that car the minute it’s parked.”

“You, like, read her mind,” Peabody said. “You knew she’d drive in.”

“She wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to have the Chief of Police grovel to her, and lord it over me. And she wouldn’t get in a black-and-white unless she was cuffed and carried. Besides, if she left the car at home, the sweepers could process it there. Reo’s warrant covers us. I want this to run like clockwork. Everyone in place.” Even as she went over the details in her head, Eve turned to her partner. “I need to take her one-on-one, Peabody. You get that?”

“Yeah. And I know my cue. We’ve got two men in place to swing in, execute the warrant on the house and bring in the wigs. It’s like a sting, isn’t it, and nearly as juicy as a battering-ram-slamming, blaster-bursting takedown. Without the potential for fatal injuries. It’s all: Psyche!”

“We twist her, and we twist her. We twist her right, and she snaps.” Eve stared at her murder board. The steps and stages, the bits and pieces. Now it was time to put them all together.

“Lieutenant.” Roarke studied her from the doorway.

“I’ll go check on stuff,” Peabody said and eased out.

“She’s on her way. Bringing the car in.”

“You called that one. Your diverse cast of characters appears to be in place. You know you’re risking those big, fat lawyers with this stage you’ve set.”

“Yeah. She’s smart enough to lawyer, but I’m betting she’s too arrogant to squeal for one right off. At the end she will. At the end she’ll be screaming for a lawyer.” And for once, Eve admitted, the sound of that would be like music to her ears. “But first she’ll be shaken, shaken enough to have to put me in my place.”

“As Magdelana tried to.”

There was no point denying it. “To her eventual disappointment…and fat lip. I’m not hanging on to that, if that’s worrying you.” When he stepped in, those blue eyes level on hers, and traced a fingertip along the shallow dent in her chin, she sighed, then shrugged. “Okay, maybe a little. But I’m not pissed at you about that, about her.”

He leaned down, kissed her very softly.

“Much. You didn’t see her, at least not until what she was doing was shoved in your face. Must be a guy thing when it comes to a certain kind of female. Thomas Anders didn’t see it in Ava, for years and years. He lived with her, and he didn’t see her. Not who she really is. I’m not pissed at him about it. He loved her. I’m pissed she used that, and him. Used anyone who came to hand, with absolutely no conscience. For game and profit. She killed him for that. For game and profit.”

“And you imagine, if I hadn’t had certain things shoved in my face, hadn’t seen, if some circumstances had been different, Maggie would have eventually done for me.”

“Why share the majority of the known universe if you can have it all for yourself?”

“Right you are. And, yes, she would have tried to end me at some point. Fortunately, I’m married to the top bitch cop in the city, and well-protected.”