by J. D. Robb
Feeney tapped his pocket where he’d slipped the security discs from the building. ‘We’ll run these, see what we find. Still seems to me we’re missing motive. Whoever took her out didn’t just want to kill her, they wanted to erase her. We’ve got a powerful kind of rage here. Didn’t seem to me either one of those two would work up a sweat.’
‘Push the right buttons, everybody sweats. I want to swing by ZigZag, see if we can start pinning down Mavis’s moves. And we need to contact the producer, set up an interview. Can you put one of your drones on the car companies, Feeney? I can’t see our heroine taking the subway or a bus downtown to Leonardo’s.’
‘Sure.’ He took out his communicator. ‘If she took a cab or a private transpo service, we should be able to nail it down in a couple hours.’
‘Good. And let’s see if she made the trip alone, or if she had company.’
ZigZag didn’t do much hopping in the middle of the day. It lived for night. The sunlight crowd were mostly tourists or the harried urban professionals who didn’t much care if the decor looked tawdry and the service was surly. The club was like a carnival that glittered at night, and showed its age and its flaws in the harsh light of day. Still, it maintained that underlying mystique that drew crowds of dreamers.
There was a steady drone of music, which would be cranked up to ear-splitting once the sun set. The open, two-level structure was dominated by five bars and twin revolving dance floors that would begin their circuit at nine P.M. Now they were still, stacked one over the other, the clear floors scarred from the beatings of nightly feet.
The lunch offerings ran to sandwiches and salads, all named after dead rockers. Today’s special was peanut butter and banana on white, with a side of vidalia onions and jalapenos. The Elvis and Joplin combo.
Eve settled with Feeney at the first bar, ordered black coffee, and sized up the bartender. She was human rather than the usual droid. In fact, Eve hadn’t noticed any droids employed in the club.
‘You ever work the night shift?’ Eve asked her.
‘Nope. I’m a day worker.’ The bartender set Eve’s coffee on the bar. She was the perky kind, one who looked more like the front woman for a health food chain than a drink swiller at a club.
‘Who’s on the ten to three who notices people, remembers them?’
‘Nobody around here notices people, if they can help it.’
Eve took out her badge, laid it on the bar. ‘Would this clear somebody’s memory?’
‘Couldn’t say.’ Unconcerned, she shrugged. ‘Look, this is a clean joint. I’ve got a kid at home, which is why I work days and why I was fussy about where I took a job. I checked this place out through and through before I hooked up. Dennis, he runs a friendly club, which is why you’ve got servers with pulses instead of chips. It might get a little wild, but he keeps the lid on.’
‘Who is Dennis, and where do I find him?’
‘His office is up the twisty stairs to your right, behind the first bar. He owns the place.’
‘Hey, Dallas. We could take a minute for some eats,’ Feeney complained as he walked behind her. ‘The Mick Jagger sounded worth a try.’
‘Get him to go.’
The bar wasn’t open on this level, but obviously Dennis had been alerted. A mirrored panel slid aside, and he stood there, a slight, aesthetic-faced man with a pointed red beard and a monk’s circle of raven black hair.
‘Officers, welcome to ZigZag.’ His voice was whisper quiet. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘We’d like your help and cooperation, Mr. . . .?’
‘Dennis, just Dennis. Too many names are unwieldy.’ He ushered them inside. The carnival atmosphere ended at the threshold. The office was spartan, streamlined, and quiet as a church. ‘My sanctuary,’ he said, well aware of the contrast. ‘One can’t enjoy nor can one appreciate the pleasures of noise and crowds and tangling humanity unless one experiences its opposite. Please sit.’
Eve took a chance on a stern-looking, straight-backed chair while Feeney eased himself into its mate. ‘We’re trying to verify the movements of one of your customers last night.’
‘For?’
‘Official reasons.’
‘I see.’ Dennis sat behind a slab of high-gloss plastic that served as his desk. ‘And the time?’
‘After eleven, before one.’
‘Open screen.’ At his order, a section of the wall slid open to reveal a viewer. ‘Replay security scan five, begin eleven P.M.’
The screen, and the room, erupted with sound and color and movement. For an instant it dazzled the eye, then Eve focused. It was an overview of the club in full swing. A rather lordly view, she mused, as if the watcher soared quietly over the heads of the celebrants.
It suited Dennis down to the ground.
He smiled, judging her reaction. ‘Delete audio.’ Abruptly, silence descended. Now the movement seemed unworldly. Dancers gyrated on the circling floors, lights flashed over their faces, catching expressions, intense, joyful, feral. A couple at a corner table snarled at each other, body action clearly demonstrating an argument in progress. At another, a mating ritual with soulful looks and intimate touches.
Then she spotted Mavis. Alone.
‘Can you enhance?’ Eve rose, jabbed a finger to the center left of the screen.
‘Of course.’
Frowning, Eve watched Mavis brought closer, clearer. It was, according to the time display, twenty-three forty-five. There was a bruise already darkening under Mavis’s eye. And when she turned her head to brush off an advance, the signs of raw scratches on her neck. But not her face, Eve noted with a sinking heart. The bright blue drape she wore was torn a bit at the shoulder, but it was still attached.
She watched Mavis flick off a couple of other men, then a woman. She downed her drink, set the glass down beside a matching pair of empty ones on her table. She listed a bit as she rose, balanced herself, then with the exaggerated dignity of the greatly impaired, Mavis elbowed her way through the crowd.
The time was twenty-four eighteen.
‘Is that what you were looking for?’
‘More or less.’
‘Disengage video.’ Dennis smiled. ‘The woman in question comes in the club from time to time. She is usually more sociable, enjoys dancing. Occasionally she will sing. I find her a different sort of talent, and certainly a crowd pleaser. Do you need her name?’
‘I know who she is.’
‘Well then.’ He rose. ‘I hope Miss Freestone isn’t in any trouble. She looked unhappy.’
‘I can get a warrant for a copy of that disc, or you can give me one.’
Dennis lifted a bright red eyebrow. ‘I’ll be happy to give you one. Computer, copy disc and label. Is there anything else I can do for you?’
‘No, not at this time.’ Eve accepted the disc and slipped it into her bag. ‘Thanks for your cooperation.’
‘Cooperation is the glue of life,’ he said as the panel slid shut behind them.
‘Weird-o,’ Feeney decided.
‘An efficient one. You know, Mavis could have gotten into a tussle while she was club hopping. She could have gotten her face scratched, her clothes torn.’
‘Yeah.’ Determined to eat, Feeney stopped at an order table and requested a Jagger to go. ‘You ought to put something in your system, Dallas, besides worry and work.’
‘I’m fine. I’m not much on the club scene, but if she had it in the back of her mind to go see Leonardo, she’d have walked south and east from here. Let’s check out what her most likely stop would have been.’
‘Fine. Just hold on.’ He made her wait until his takeout slid through the serving slot. He had the clear wrap off and the first bite in by the time they got to the car. ‘Damn good stuff. Always did like Jagger.’
‘Hell of a way to live forever.’ She started to request a map when her car ’link beeped, signaling incoming transmission. ‘Lab report,’ she murmured and focused on the screen. ‘Oh, goddamn it.’
�
��Hell, Dallas, this is a mess.’ Appetite gone, Feeney stuffed the sandwich in his pocket. Both of them fell into silence.
The report was very clear. It was Mavis’s skin, and only Mavis’s, under the victim’s nails. Mavis’s prints, and only Mavis’s, on the murder weapon. And it was her blood, and only hers, mixed with the victim’s on scene.
The ’link beeped again, and this time a face appeared on screen. ‘Prosecuting Attorney Jonathan Heartly, Lieutenant Dallas.’
‘Acknowledged.’
‘We’re issuing an arrest warrant for Freestone, Mavis, charge of murder, second degree. Please hold for transmission. ’
‘Didn’t waste any time,’ Feeney grumbled.
Chapter Seven
She wanted to do it alone. Had to do it alone. She could count on Feeney to work on ferreting out any details that might weaken the case against Mavis. But the job had to be done, and she had to do it herself.
Still, she was glad when Roarke opened the door.
‘I can see it in your face.’ And he took her face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Eve.’
‘I have a warrant. I have to take her in, book her. There’s nothing else I can do.’
‘I know. Come here.’ He gathered her close, held her as she burrowed her face in his shoulder. ‘We’ll find the piece of this that clears her, Eve.’
‘Nothing I’ve found, nothing, Roarke, helps her. Everything makes it worse. The evidence, it’s all there. The motive’s there, the timing.’ She drew back. ‘If I didn’t know her, I wouldn’t have a doubt.’
‘But you do know her.’
‘She’s going to be scared.’ Frightened herself, Eve looked up the stairs, toward where Mavis would be waiting. ‘The PA’s office told me they wouldn’t block bail, but still, she’s going to need . . . Roarke, I hate to ask you—’
‘You don’t have to. I’ve already contacted the best criminal defense team in the country.’
‘I can’t pay you back for that.’
‘Eve—’
‘I don’t mean the money.’ She took a shuddering breath and gripped both of his hands. ‘You don’t really know her, but you believe in her because I do. That’s what I can’t pay you back for. I have to go get her.’
‘You want to do it alone.’ He understood, and had already convinced himself not to argue the point. ‘I’ll alert her lawyers. What are the charges?’
‘Murder two. I’ll have to deal with the media. It’s certainly going to leak that Mavis and I have history.’ She pulled her hands through her disordered hair. ‘That may bleed over onto you.’
‘Do you think that worries me?’
She nearly smiled. ‘No, I guess not. This may take awhile. I’ll bring her back as soon as I can.’
‘Eve,’ he murmured as she started up the stairs. ‘She believes in you, too. There’s good reason for it.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Bracing herself, she continued up, walked slowly down the corridor to Mavis’s room, and knocked.
‘Come on in, Summerset. I told you I’d come down for the cake. Oh.’ Surprised, Mavis leaned back from the computer where she’d been struggling to write a new song. To cheer herself up, she’d worn a skin suit of bright sapphire and had dyed her hair to match. ‘I thought it was Summerset.’
‘And cake.’
‘Yeah, he buzzed in and told me the cook had baked a triple chocolate fudge cake. Summerset knows I’ve got this weakness. I know the two of you don’t get along, but he’s really sweet to me.’
‘That’s because he keeps imagining you naked.’
‘Whatever works.’ She began to tap her tricolored nails on the console in a quick, nervous tattoo. ‘Anyway he’s been great. I guess if he thought I had my eye on Roarke, it’d be different. He’s like totally devoted. You’d think Roarke was his first and only born or something instead of his boss. That’s the only reason he gives you grief - Well, and you being a cop doesn’t help. I think Summerset has this block about cops.’
She broke off, trembled visibly. ‘I’m sorry, Dallas, I’m babbling. I’m so scared. You found Leonardo, didn’t you? Something’s really, really wrong. He’s hurt, isn’t he? He’s dead.’
‘No, he’s not hurt.’ Eve crossed the room and sat on the foot of the bed. ‘He came into the cop shop this morning. He had a cut on his arm, that’s all. The two of you had pretty much the same idea last night. He got tanked and headed for your place, ended up cutting his arm on an empty bottle he dropped before he keeled.’
‘He was drunk?’ Mavis sprang up at that. ‘He hardly ever drinks. He knows he can’t. He told me how he does things he can’t remember if he drinks too much. It scares him, and . . . To my place,’ she said, eyes softening. ‘That’s so sweet. Then he came to see you because he couldn’t find me.’
‘He came to see me to confess to the murder of Pandora.’
Mavis reared back as if Eve had struck her. ‘That’s impossible. Leonardo wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s just not capable of it. He was just trying to protect me.’
‘He didn’t know anything about your involvement at that time. He believes he must have argued with Pandora, fought with her, then killed her.’
‘Well, that’s absolutely wrong.’
‘So the evidence indicates.’ Eve rubbed her weary eyes, kept her fingers pressed there for a moment. ‘The cut on his arm came from a piece of the broken bottle. None of his blood was found at the scene, none of Pandora’s was on the clothes he’d been wearing. We haven’t pinned down his movements precisely as yet, but we don’t have anything on him.’
Mavis missed a beat, caught up. ‘Oh, then it’s all right. You didn’t believe him.’
‘I haven’t decided that, but the evidence, at this point, keeps him clear.’
‘Thank God.’ Mavis slid down onto the bed beside Eve. ‘When can I see him, Dallas? Leonardo and I have to work things out between us.’
‘That may take a little time.’ Eve squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again, made herself look at Mavis. ‘I have to ask you for a favor, the biggest anyone’s ever asked you.’
‘Is it going to hurt?’
‘Yeah.’ Eve watched Mavis’s attempt at a smile fade away. ‘I have to ask you to trust me to take care of you. To believe that I’m so good at my job that nothing, however small, will get past me. I have to ask you to remember you’re my closest friend, and that I love you.’
Mavis’s breath started to jerk. Her eyes stayed dry, burning dry. The saliva evaporated from her mouth. ‘You’re going to arrest me.’
‘The lab reports came in.’ She caught Mavis’s hands, held them hard in hers. ‘They weren’t a surprise, because I knew someone had set things up. I was expecting this, Mavis. I hoped I could find something - anything - before it did, but I haven’t been able to. Feeney’s working on it, too. He’s the best, Mavis, trust me here. And Roarke’s already lined up the top defense lawyers known to man. It’s just procedure.’
‘You have to arrest me for murder.’
‘It’s murder two. That’s a small break. I know it doesn’t sound like one, but the PA’s office isn’t going to try to block bail. I’ll have you back here eating cake in a few hours.’
But her mind was replaying one segment, over and over. It’s murder two. It’s murder two. ‘You have to put me in a cage.’
Eve’s lungs were burning, and the sensation was rapidly moving toward her heart. ‘Not for long. I swear it. Feeney’s working right now to get the preliminary hearing up and running. He’s got plenty of markers he can pull in. By the time we’ve got you through booking, you’ll have the hearing, the judge will set bail, and you’ll be back here.’
Wearing an ident alarm to track her movements, Eve thought. Trapped in the house to avoid the stalking media. The cage would be plush and friendly, but it would still be a cage.
‘You make it sound easy.’
‘It’s not going to be easy, but it’ll be easier if you remember you’ve got a couple of top cops on your side. Do
n’t waive any of your rights, okay? Any of them. And once we start this, you wait for your lawyers. Don’t say anything to me you don’t have to say. Don’t say anything to anyone. Understand me?’
‘All right.’ Mavis drew her hands away, rose. ‘Let’s get it over with.’
Hours later, when it was done, Eve stepped back into the house. The lights were low. She hoped Mavis had taken the tranq Eve had recommended and gone to sleep. Eve already knew she wouldn’t do the same.
She knew Feeney would have followed her request to pass Mavis personally over to Roarke. There had been other work to do. The press conference had been particularly hideous. As expected, questions about her friendship with Mavis had been brought up, conflict of interest hinted at. She owed the commander a great deal for the appearance he’d put in and his statement of absolute faith in his primary investigator.
The one on one with Nadine Furst had been a little easier. All you had to do, Eve thought glumly as she climbed the stairs, was save a person’s life, and they were happy to take your side. The blood lust for the story might have been in Nadine’s heart, but so was a sense of debt. Mavis would get fair treatment from Channel 75.
Then Eve had done something she had never believed she would do. She had voluntarily called the police psychiatrist and made an appointment to talk with Dr. Mira.
Could still cancel it, she reminded herself and rubbed her gritty eyes. Probably will cancel it.
‘You’re quite late, Lieutenant, after an eventful day.’
She dropped her hands and saw Summerset step silently out of a room to her right. He was, as usual, dressed in his stiff black, his stern face set in disapproving lines. Hating her seemed to be something he did with almost as much seamless skill as he ran the household.
‘Don’t hassle me, Summerset.’
He stepped directly into her path. ‘I had believed, though you have countless flaws, you were, at least, a competent investigator. I see now, you are not, any more than you are a competent friend to one who depended on you.’