by J. D. Robb
“Yeah. No way she’s smart enough, no way they have the resources. Husband’s military record’s clean, and even the MP stint wouldn’t give him the kind of training we’re after. And he’s too old, too weighty himself according to his ID data.”
“Could just be pulling the strings, but—”
“Right. Hard to believe anyone married to her, living in a place full of smoke and candy, is disciplined and clever enough to outline an operation like this one.”
“Or working as a security drone at the mall, chasing off kids, mostly. Bad-mouthing and complaining, that’s what these people do.”
“And they don’t kill off an entire family because they’re pissed off at somebody. No,” Eve agreed. “She was irritating, and he’s likely the same, but they’re not masterminds or cold-blooded kid killers.”
“You know what else? I don’t think whoever did this, or is behind it, made any noise. I mean, none of this, I’ll-sue-your-quack-ass business. I know we have to check those out, but that’s not going to be the hit.”
Eve kept her attention on the road as she drove. “Why?”
“Because he has to think ahead, right? Has to be controlled and organized. Whenever this happened—I mean whatever it was that made him target these people—he had to pull it out. Because he’d have been thinking payback. Someday, somehow. But you don’t leave a trail.”
Now Eve turned her head. “My pride in you bubbles in my heart. Unless it’s that soy dog you talked me into earlier.”
“Gosh, Dallas, a blush rises to my cheeks. Unless that, too, is the soy dog.” She thumped a fist on her chest, gave a small, somehow ladylike belch. “Guess it was the dog.”
“Now that we’ve established that, let’s have the next on the list.”
Peabody called up the list, the next name, the location, and the directions from the dash menu. Then leaned forward, stroking the dash and crooning. “Nice vehicle, pretty vehicle. Smart vehicle.” She slid her gaze toward Eve. “And who got the nice, pretty, smart vehicle for us?”
“You’ve already milked that one, Peabody.”
“Yeah but—Aww, and see, look at its little ’link beeping.”
Shaking her head, Eve answered the beep. “Dallas.”
“A little tit for tat coming your way,” Nadine said, “so don’t forget it. Scanner picked up a snatch-and-grab report. Female on Avenue B, tossed in the back of a van quick as a wink.”
“Unless she’s dead, she’s not my table. Sorry.”
“Cold, cruel, true. Thing is, one of the witnesses recognized her, and actually bothered to say so to the uniforms responding. Said she was a social worker named Meredith Newman. I get wind of that and I think, hey, isn’t that the name of—”
“The CPS drone on the Swisher case.”
“I’m heading down there, to do some interviews. Thought you’d want to know.”
“We’re on our way. Don’t talk to anybody on scene, Nadine. I need a shot first. You’re going to give me tit,” she added when Nadine’s mouth opened. “Don’t be stingy with it.”
She broke off, whipped around a corner, and headed south.
8
EVE SPOTTED THE CHANNEL 75 VAN PARKED IN a loading zone on Avenue B. She whipped by it, then double-parked beside the black-and-white already at the curb.
She spotted Nadine as well—it was hard not to when the perfectly streaked hair and the vivid royal blue of the reporter’s on-air suit sprang out like an exotic bloom against the faded forest of dingy shirts and smudgy concrete.
She was cozied up with a trio of the daily doorway lurkers but peeled off toward Eve.
“I never said I wouldn’t ask questions,” Nadine said immediately. “But I’ve kept it off record. For now. Your uniform’s inside with the woman who claims to have seen the grab and recognized the grabee. Hi, Peabody. How are you feeling?”
“Better and better, thanks.”
Eve sent a hard stare at the van. “Keep the cameras off.”
“Public street,” Nadine began. “Public—”
“Nadine, do you know why I often give you an inside track? Because it’s not just the story with you. You actually give more than a passing thought to the people in the story. And you wouldn’t, not even for ratings, sacrifice those people to get your pretty face on air.”
Nadine blew out a long breath. “Shit.”
“Keep the cameras off,” Eve repeated and strode toward the lingering lurkers. “What did you see?” she began. “What do you know?”
The skinniest of the lot, a mixed-race stick with a pitted complexion, grinned—illustrating that his dental care was slightly below the standard of his skin care—and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.
“Detective Peabody.” Eve spoke in mild tones, her eyes cold as a shark’s. “In your professional opinion, did this individual, who has possibly witnessed a crime, just solicit a member of the NYPSD for a bribe in exchange for information regarding that crime?”
“That does appear to be the case, Lieutenant.”
“Me and my ’sociates need some jack. You give, you gets.”
“And, Detective, what would be my most usual response to such a solicitation?”
“Your response, Lieutenant, would be to haul said individual, and possibly his associates, into Central, possibly charged with obstruction of justice and impeding a police investigation. You would also determine if subject and/or his associates had sheets. If so, you would then spend considerable time ruining their day and potentially making their lives, for the short-term at least, a stinking hell.”
“That’s exactly correct, Detective. Thank you. You catch any of that, asshole?”
He actually looked hurt. “No jack?”
“That is also exactly correct. Now I’ll repeat: What did you see, what do you know?”
“You gonna take me in I don’t say?”
“Two correct answers in a row. Want to try for three?”
“Well, shit. I seen the big nose sluffling along, coming along looking like she smell something she don’t like. Ain’t worth two looks, but we just hanging, so I start to give her a blow. Then the van thing, it flies up. Fast! And the two dudes, they pop out the back. Got one on each sida her. Lifts her up, toss her in, slam, bam, gone. We and my ’sociates, we’da taken them on but they was rat fast, man. You gets?”
“Yeah, I get. What did they look like? The men who popped out the back?”
“Like ninjas, man.” He looked at each of his pals for nods of agreement. “Like a coupla kick-face ninja dudes in black threads with the mask thing.”
“How about the van?”
“Black, too.”
“Make, model, plate?”
“Hell, what I know? I don’t drive no van. Big and black, and moved slick as goose shit. Musta been a dude in the front, but I didn’t see nothing. Wasn’t lookin’. And the big nose? She don’t even squeak. Got her grabbed and stashed so fast, she don’t even squeak. We chill now?”
“Yeah, we’re chill now. Name?”
“Man.” He shuffled his feet. “Ramon. Ramon Pasquell. I got legitimate parole, man. I be looking for a job now, but I’m standing here jawing you.”
“Right. Ramon, if you or your associates remember anything else, you can contact me at Central.” She handed him a card and a twenty.
“Hey!” No amount of joy lighting his face could make it any less ugly. “You fridge for a big nose.”
“Sweet talker,” she said and walked into the building.
“You don’t have a big nose,” Peabody pointed out. “In fact, it could be called narrow and elegant.”
“Big nose—nosey—cops, CPS, probation officers, and so on. We’re all big noses to mopes like Ramon.”
“Ah, I gets. Report has the witness on the third floor. Cable, Minnie.”
It only took one glance at the grimy, dented door of the single skinny elevator to have Eve taking the grimy stairs instead. She had a moment to wonder why the stench of urine and puke always
seemed to permeate the walls in such places when a uniform stepped out of a door on the third floor.
She noted he made them as cops even before he eyed the badge she’d hooked in her belt. “Lieutenant, you’re quick. I just called for detectives.”
“Belay that, Officer. This incident may be related to one of our cases. She going to give me anything worthwhile?”
“Saw the whole thing. She’s excitable, but she saw the grab, recognized the victim. Meredith Newman. Child Protection. I contacted CPS, and it checks. Newman was due here for a home check.”
“Okay. Rescind the request for a detective. I’ll contact Central after I’ve talked to the wit. I’d like you to wait downstairs. I’ve got your unit boxed in anyway. I’ll want your report when I’m done up here.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he went down, Eve glanced at Peabody, noted the beads of sweat on her partner’s face. Should’ve risked the elevator, she thought. “You holding, Peabody?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She dug out a tissue, wiped her face. “Still get a little winded, but the exercise is good for me. I’m good.”
“You’re otherwise, I want to know. Don’t pussy around.” Eve stepped up to the door, knocked. She could already hear the shouts, the crying, the voices. A trio of voices, if she wasn’t mistaken. And two of them kids.
It seemed to be her week for kids.
“Police, Ms. Cable.”
“I just talked to the police.” A woman, looking harassed—and who wouldn’t with one kid on the hip and the other pulling at your leg?—opened the door. Her hair was a short, spiky blonde, her build going toward bottom heavy. And her eyes had the rabbit pink hue of a funky-junkie.
“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. We’d like to come in.”
“I told the other guy the works. Jeez, Lo-Lo would ya stop for two seconds. Sorry, the kids’re riled up.”
“This Lo-Lo?” Peabody smiled. “Hi, Lo-Lo, why don’t you come on over here with me.”
Kids responded to Peabody, Eve noted. And this one, a pint-size with hair as blonde and spiky as her mother’s, peeled off her mother’s leg, put her hand in Peabody’s, and walked off babbling.
There wasn’t far to go. The room was a little L, with a kitchen forming the jag. But there were a few toys scattered around, and the kid arrowed toward the pile to share them with her new pal.
“I saw from the window, there.” Minnie pointed, shifting the smaller child on her hip. This one had eyes as big and unblinking as an owl’s, and a crop of smokey brown curls. “I was watching for her, for Ms. Newman. She don’t—didn’t think I’d clean up, she didn’t think I’d kick the funk. But I did. Been off it six months now.”
“Good.” And if she hadn’t been on it too much longer than she’d been off, her eyes might one day lose the red rims and pinkish whites.
“They were going to take my kids. I had to clean up for my kids, so I did. Not their fault I got screwed up. I’m off the funk, and I go to meetings. I get spot checked, and I’m clean. I need Ms. Newman to say I can keep my temp professional mother status. I gotta have the money, gotta pay the rent and the food, and—”
“I’ll contact CPS and tell them I was here, saw you were clean, and your children cared for. Your place is clean,” she added.
“I made sure. It gets messy, with the kids, but I don’t let it get dirty. I get some more money together, I’m going to move us to a better neighborhood. But this is the best I can do now. I don’t want to screw up my kids.”
“I can see that. CPS will send another rep out. You won’t lose your status due to these circumstances.”
“Okay.” She turned her face into the little one’s neck. “Sorry. I know I shouldn’t be so into what’s going on with me when that lady got herself grabbed like that. But I don’t want to lose my kids.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
“I was standing there, at the window. I was nervous, because she didn’t like me. That’s not right,” she corrected. “She didn’t care. Didn’t give a dried-up turd.” She winced, looked over at her older girl. “I try not to use bad language in front of the kids, but I forget.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Eve stepped to the window. There was a clear view of the street. She could see the black-and-white, and her own vehicle. And the shaking fists of drivers who were fighting the logjam the double-parking caused. “Here?”
“Yeah. I’m standing there, with Bits on my hip, like now. I’m telling her and Lo-Lo they have to be good. My eyes.” She touched a finger just below her left. “You’ve been on the funk, even when you’re off awhile, they get worse when you’re nervous or upset, or just tired. Guess I was all. I saw her coming, walking from that way.”
Stepping closer, Minnie pointed. “Had her head down, so I didn’t see her face at first. But I knew it was her. I was going to get back—so in case she looked up she wouldn’t see me watching—but I saw the van. It just flew up, you know? Real fast. Squealing when it stopped. These two guys jumped out the back, and they were on her so fast. Pow! Grabbed her up, right off her feet. I saw her face then, just for a second. She hardly looked surprised, but it was—” She snapped a finger. “Tossed her through the open doors, jumped in after her, and were gone.
“I called right away. It might’ve taken me just a minute, because I was so surprised. I mean it was so fast, then it was like it never happened. But it did. I called nine-one-one and I said what I saw. They won’t think I had anything to do with it, will they? Because she was coming here, and I’m a junkie?”
“You don’t sound like a junkie to me, Minnie.”
A smile lit up in her red-rimmed eyes.
“Cute kids,” Peabody commented on the way down. “Looks like that woman’s pushing against the odds. Good chance she’ll make it.”
Eve nodded. The junkies she knew—including vague memories of her own mother—cared more about the next fix than any child. Minnie had a shot.
She stepped back onto the street, signalled to Nadine. “Do your interviews. But keep our names out. I don’t want whoever did this to know we suspect a connection to the Swisher murders.”
“And you do.”
Eve started to say “off-record,” but decided it would be an insult under the circumstances. “No. I know there is. But we make that known, Newman is dead. Probably is anyway, but that would seal the deal. And it wouldn’t hurt to pump up the human interest regarding Minnie Cable—recovering funk addict, working to stay clean and do right by her kids, so on. She stood up, called this in. But make it clear, Nadine, like crystal, that she was unable to give any description of the perpetrators.”
“Was she?”
“No. Couple of guys, dressed in black. Masked, moved fast. She couldn’t make height, age, weight, race, nothing. Just make it clear on-air.”
“Got that. Hey!” She strode, high heels clipping, as Eve walked away. “Is that all I get?”
“All there is, at this point. Nadine?” She paused long enough to glance around. “Your heads-up is noted, and appreciated. Officer,” she continued, stepping up to the uniform. “Give me your report.”
Eve sat in the double-wide cube at Child Protection and fought not to squirm. She hated places like this. An atavistic loathing with an unreasonable current of fear rushed through her. She knew it was unreasonable, knew its root was in a monster spinning horror tales to make her believe he was the lesser of evils.
Lies, of course, vicious lies to keep her in control.
How long did it take to shed the fear-skin of childhood?
Did we ever?
The woman sitting at the workstation in the cube didn’t look like a monster. They’ll toss you in a pit, little girl. Black and deep and full of spiders. She looked like someone’s plump and comfortable grandma. At least the way Eve envisioned plump and comfortable grandmas. Her hair was in a neat circle around a round, rosy-cheeked face, and she wore a long, shapeless print dress. She smelled like berries. Raspberries, Eve thought.
&nb
sp; But when you looked in her eyes, the cozy granny was nowhere to be seen. They were dark and shrewd, tired and concerned.
“She hasn’t checked in, and doesn’t answer her ’link.” Renny Townston, Newman’s supervisor, frowned at Eve. “All our reps—male and female—are issued panic alarms. They often visit rough neighborhoods, and rougher subjects. They’re given standard defense training and are required to update that training, along with their other job qualifications, annually. Meredith knew how to take care of herself. She’s no rookie. In fact . . .”
“In fact,” Eve prompted.
“She’s on the edge of the board, in my opinion. A year, maybe two left in her for this job. She does the job, Lieutenant, but she’s lost the heart. Most do after a few years. In six months, if it doesn’t turn around, all she’ll be doing is putting in time. The fact is . . .”
“The fact is?”
“She should never have allowed you to override her on the Swisher matter. Never have permitted you to take that child out of her care or supervision. She didn’t even demand the location, and barely followed up on the matter the following morning.”
“I pushed pretty hard.”
“And she didn’t stand up to it, to you. At the very least, she should have gone with you and the child, reported in. Instead, she went home, and didn’t file the report until morning.”
Annoyance, then worry, pursed Townston’s lips. “Now, I’m afraid one of her clients grabbed her up. They blame us, you know, same as you cops get blamed, for their own screwups and failings.”
“How about her personal life?”
“I don’t know much about it. She isn’t a chat-in-the-breakroom sort. I know she was dating someone for a while recently, but that’s over. She’s a loner, which is part of the problem. Without a life outside, you don’t make it to retirement age.”
Though she knew it was a time waster, it was a routine one, so Eve took the data on Newman’s case files. She took the names, the addresses. And with Peabody, went next to Newman’s apartment.
The living/kitchen area was larger than Minnie Cable’s, but lacked the color and life of clutter. It was clean to the point of sterile with its blank, white walls, engaged privacy screens, its straight-lined sofa and single chair.