Echoes in Death (In Death #44)(24)
“Nobody better,” Olsen said. “Any way I can talk to her?”
“I’m going to say no at this time. Not because you don’t have a stake in this, and I intend to read you in as our case progresses, but she’s in bad shape, emotionally. I don’t want to add another face, another questioner.”
“I get that. I want to say, if and when, Stan and I know how to approach a victim of rape.”
“Understood, and I’ll have Mira copy you and your partner on her reports. I’ll give you what I’ve got, and expect the same.”
“You’ll have it.”
“To begin, there’s a variation. These vics were having a dinner party for fifty when, we believe, he entered the house.”
Olsen puffed out her cheeks. “Christ, he’s getting bold.”
“The rest follows the basic pattern—up until the murder. We’ve got some people to talk to. We get anything, we’ll pass it on. I’m going to check your files—you do the same—for Jacko’s Catering and Loan Star Rentals. The last vics used both for this party, and have used them in the past. The caterer’s coming up clean, but it could be a connection.”
“I’ll get on that. My take, if you want it?”
“I do.”
“He’s a coward, but a lot of rapists are. And a sadist, and he likes drama. You’ve got to figure he’s punishing them both. He wants the husband to suffer, wants him to feel impotent. Maybe daddy issues, who knows. I’ve got Mira’s profile—we went to her after the second one clicked in. It’s in the file.”
Olsen got to her feet. “Any help we can give, it’s yours. We can clear it with our LT.” She hesitated. “You’ve got a rep—both of you,” she said with a glance at Peabody. “And that’s rock solid. But I still asked Baxter for his take. He’s not a bullshitter when it matters.”
“Just all the rest of the time.”
Olsen grinned. “And he’s so good at it. He says you’re the best LT he’s ever worked under, and Peabody’s as good as they get. So.”
She offered a hand to Eve. “Thanks for making the time. Anything we can do to bag this bastard will have me doing my happy dance.”
When Olsen left, Peabody preened. “I have a rep.”
“That’s what you got out of all that?”
“Just taking a moment to bask.”
“Basking’s done,” Eve said as she rose.
“Good thing, as I’ve got a notification Oliver Quint’s just signed in. He’s one of the delivery guys.”
“Let’s get him in Interview.”
“I liked Olsen,” Peabody said as they headed out. “Do you think she and Baxter…”
“What is Baxter’s middle name?”
“Horndog. Yeah, that answers that.”
*
Quint was a skinny black guy with huge eyes and a tiny beard. He sat in the box with his narrow shoulders hunched and his dark moon eyes darting. Eve’s first thought was nobody that jumpy could successfully shoplift a bag of soy chips from a 24/7 much less orchestrate a trio of breakins, rapes, and a murder.
But you had to start somewhere.
“Nervous, Oliver?”
“It’s Ollie, okay. My ma calls me Oliver when I’m in trouble. Am I in trouble?”
“Have you done anything to get you there?”
“Look, Chachie said how he found the wrist unit, and he needed some scratch, so I bought it off him cheap. Maybe I sort of figured he maybe stole it somewhere, but I didn’t steal it.”
Eve arched an eyebrow, studied the black, fake leather band and oversized unit on Quint’s bony wrist.
“That wrist unit?”
“Well, yeah. See, mine got busted, so—”
“So you’re wearing what you believe is stolen property to a police interview?”
“I…” He looked sincerely baffled. “My old one got busted.”
“We’re not interested in the wrist unit, Ollie.”
“Oh.” His big eyes blinked. “Hey, I only went by that party to hook up with Marletta, and we didn’t stay. Maybe an hour.”
“What party?”
“Um. Lorenzo’s party.” He tried a sheepish, “aw shucks” smile. “Maybe I figured there maybe would be Zoner and shit there, but I didn’t have any. I got a good job, and you could get bounced. Plus, my ma’d skin me.”
Peabody smiled at him. “Your ma sounds like a good, smart woman.”
“She ain’t raising her boys to be criminals. Tells us all the time.”
“That’s good. You like your job, Ollie?” Peabody asked him.
“I like it fine and good. Pays okay, and Carmine, he’s solid square. I got three years in, and I got a raise first of the year.”
“You did a delivery and pickup yesterday,” Eve began.
“Did five altogether yesterday. Weekends is busy. Five deliveries,” he qualified. “Three pickups. Got another pickup I’m on tonight.”
“The Strazza job,” Eve qualified.
“Um.”
But he brightened up when she reeled off the address.
“Sure did. Five ten-top tables, fifty chairs. Delivery and setup—that was for five sharp, and break down and pick up between eight-thirty and eight-forty-five. Big-ass house—you get to see a lot of fancy places with the job. We’ve done jobs at that place lots of times. The lady tips good. Some of them don’t, but the lady there, she does. Always says thank you, too. Some don’t.”
J.D. Robb's Books
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