Indulgence in Death (In Death #31)(93)

“But he’s got to get the whip over the limb. It’s not high. It doesn’t have to be. She’s what, five three in her bare feet?”

“Five two and a half on her ID. Sorry, Lieutenant.” Jenkinson shrugged when she turned to frown at him. “I thought you were talking to me.”

“Just thinking out loud. He’s got to hoist her up. He’s in good shape, and he’s tall enough to manage it. But that takes some solid muscle. Or some chemical help,” she considered.

Zeus made gods out of men—or at least gave them the adrenaline rush to think so.

“He’s a user. A couple tokes to get his juices up. Maybe he brought a collapsible ladder. Hell, maybe he told her to bring one. Drag her up while she’s choking, kicking, clawing. Secure the butt end of the whip, wait until she stops kicking. Wouldn’t take long, then go home and tell your pal it’s a tie.”

“We got word there was another one last night.”

“Yeah, they’re all revved up.”

“Me and Reineke want in, Dallas. These fuckers need some ass-kicking.”

“You’re in. Get her to Morris. Have crime scene go over this area like it was sprinkled with diamonds. Let me have her address. Where’s her purse?”

“There wasn’t one. Might be some mope came by and snatched it. People will do any damn thing.”

“And leave those shoes? I bet you could sell them for a grand easy. He took her bag. She’d have a bag. For face stuff, credit, ’link. Probably had some sort of repel spray, panic button, too. He took the bag, like his pal took the wine. Sloppy, getting sloppy,” she murmured. “Cocky bastards.”

“She’s got a place on Central Park West. Didn’t have to come far to die. You want one of us with you?”

“No.” She took the address. “Finish up here. Dot every ‘i.’ And write it up. Work with Peabody on this. Sylvester Moriarity is going to have some past connection to her. You need to find it. Peabody will bring you up to date. If you’ve got anything else hot, pass it to another detective. This is priority.”

“No problem.”

She stood another moment, looking at the no longer pretty Adrianne Jonas, then turned her back and walked away.

Walking across the park, she pulled out her ’link. She just needed to talk to him for a minute, she told herself. Thirty seconds. Maybe she just needed to see his face.

God. She needed something.

“Hello, Lieutenant.” Caro, Roarke’s admin, smiled out of the screen. “If you’d just hold one moment, I’ll put him on.”

“He’s into something.” Or he’d have answered himself. “It’s not important. I’ll get back to him later.”

“I’m under orders to put you through anytime you call today. I . . . Are you all right?”

Jesus, did it show? “Yeah.”

“Hold on,” Caro said.

Stupid, Eve berated herself. Stupid to have interrupted him. Stupid to have needed to. What she needed to do was the job—but if she broke transmission, he’d tag her right back. Then she’d feel stupider.

“Eve? What’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t’ve . . . doesn’t matter because I did. They got another one.”

“Today?”

“Three this morning, Central Park. I just . . . God. He hung her in the park. Used a bullwhip. And I just . . .”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m leaving the park, going over to the vic’s place. I have to check it out, find out how she was booked. I have to work it.”

“Give me the address. I’ll meet you there.”

She felt her throat burn and realized emotion was shoving against the resolve that held the anger underneath. “That’s not why I got you out of some meeting. I’m sorry about that.”

“If you don’t give me the address, I’ll just get it by other means, which you won’t like. Let’s avoid the fight over something unimportant when we’re both tired and frustrated.”

“Look, I’ve got my work, you’ve got yours. I’m sorry I—”

“Last chance to avoid the fight. You’re a little more beaten up than I am, so I’ll win.”

She cursed, but she gave him the address. “I’ll clear you with building security.”

“Now, that’s just insulting. I’ll be there shortly.”

So he’d be Peabody again, she thought as she got into her vehicle. What the hell. She could use all the eyes, ears, hands, and brains she could muster.





19



THE DOORMAN TOOK ONE LOOK AT EVE’S VEHICLE and, wincing, left his post to stride over. He plastered a smile on his face, she had to give him that.

“Something I can do for you, miss?”

She held up her badge as she got out of the car. “Couple of things. First, make sure my ride stays where I put it. Second, clear me up to Adrianne Jonas’s place. Third—”

“I’ll have to check with Ms. Jonas before I clear you. Ah—” He took another look at her badge. “Lieutenant.”

“Good luck with that. She’s on her way to the morgue.”

“Oh, come on!” The sincere shock and distress made her wish she’d been slightly more tactful. “Ms. Jonas’s dead? What happened to her?”