Brotherhood in Death (In Death #42)(10)

“How about the senator?”

Her nose wrinkled. “More lately, with dollar signs in his eyes.”

“Sila.”

“I can’t help it. He took some of the furniture—had it taken,” she corrected, “but Mr. Dennis said it was left to him and it was all right. I didn’t tell Mr. Dennis how I overheard the senator talking on his ’link about appraisals for the pieces he took. It would have hurt Mr. Dennis’s feelings to know what his grandparents loved was being sold to strangers.”

Eve asked more questions, digging into what she already sensed was fallow ground. When they rose to leave, Sila touched her arm.

“I want to contact Mr. Dennis, just want to hear his voice. I don’t think I can settle down until I do. Is that all right?”

“Sure.” Eve hesitated. “Give this about a week, but if you get a chance, maybe you could go back over there, clean the study. Crime Scene leaves dust.”

“You can bet I will.”

Eve brooded on their way uptown, then turned to Roarke.

“Selling furniture, wanting to sell the house. Some people are just greedy, but maybe you can take a good look at his finances. It could be gambling debts, blackmail over an affair. Maybe he doesn’t just want to sell. Maybe he needs to sell.”

“Permission to wiggle my fingers in someone else’s finances is always delightful. Permission in this case, a veritable treat.”

“You really don’t like him.”

“Not in the least.”

“Could he force Mr. Mira to sell?”

Smoothly, Roarke maneuvered around a mini, fishtailing on the slick streets. “I don’t know the particulars, but if they own equal shares, I think it would be a considerable battle. Dennis could buy Edward out.”

“Sure, if he has ten million lying around gathering dust.”

“Ten million doesn’t gather dust, it—if used well—makes more millions. We could easily lend him what he’d need. Family,” Roarke added when Eve stared at him.

She took his hand. “I really was going to do the dinner thing. And I was thinking about a swim with pool sex, and maybe a vid.”

He gave her a slow, easy grin. “All that?”

“I was working out the details. I’m really sorry I didn’t get a chance to pull it off.”

“We’re young yet.”

—

Roarke pulled the DLE to the curb in front of a gleaming silver building. Eve smirked when the doorman, who looked like a formal polar bear in white livery with gold braiding, hustled through the icy rain to scowl at them.

“You own this place?”

“No. Why don’t we go in, see if we want to.”

“I get to intimidate the doorman,” she said before they got out. “Do not bribe him.”

“And spoil your fun? What do you take me for?”

She got out, planted her feet as the doorman curled his lip.

“You can’t park that heap here.”

“I just did.”

“Now you’re just going to move it. This space is reserved for pickups, drop-offs. For cabs, limos, and vehicles that aren’t an embarrassment to the vehicle industry.”

She flipped out her badge. “This is an official NYPSD vehicle, and it works for me. It stays where I put it.”

“Look, look, I’m all in support for the boys—and girls—in blue, but I can’t have junkers like that sitting out here.”

“Don’t judge a book by its title.”

“What?”

“Cover,” Roarke supplied. “It’s cover, darling.”

“Whatever. It stays . . .” She scanned his name tag. “Eugene. Have you seen Senator Mira tonight?”

“No, haven’t seen him and I’ve been on the door since four. Look, look, pull that thing around the corner, into the garage. I’ll buzz ’em, and you won’t have to pay.”

“Some might consider that attempting to bribe a police officer. I’m going to let it pass. How about Mrs. Mira?”

“Her social secretary left about twenty minutes ago, so as far as I know Mrs. Mira’s up there. What’s the beef here?”

“I’m going to have one with you if you don’t clear us up to the Mira apartment, and now. It’s been a long day, pal, and now I’m wet and cold. I can make your life a living hell should I choose to do so.”

“Cops,” he mumbled under his breath and lumbered back to the doors. He stomped over to the lobby comp.

“Mrs. Mira or one of her people have to clear you. They bought a private elevator, and if I try to send you up without clearance, that trips an alarm. And it’s my job. You can make my life a living hell, but, sister, you’ve got nothing on my wife. I lose my job, she’ll make me wish I was in hell.”

“That’s Lieutenant Sister—and let them know the NYPSD needs to speak with Mrs. Mira.”

He tapped something on the screen, then put on an earpiece for privacy. “Yo, Hank, it’s Eugene on the door. I got the NYPSD down here needing to speak with the boss. Uh-huh. Yeah, that’s next. Got it.”

He turned to Eve. “Need to scan that for verification, and Mrs. Mira’s security is informing her you want to come up.”