Brotherhood in Death (In Death #42)(94)

“We got some something and some nothing,” Feeney told Eve.

“Start with the something.”

“We could scan out the one swipe, and get the code and the ID. Bank was on it. Liberty National Bank of New York was on it. Did a little dance, and we got the branch for you. Whatever he stashed, he stashed it in the Bronx. I was just about to send you the address.”

“Do that. I’ll check it out, and thanks. What’s the nothing?”

“Other swipe. We got the code, no problem. But there’s no handy ID like with the bank box. We’re still working, but the best we can figure is residence. It doesn’t read like a company swipe, a business swipe. Still could be one, but we’re leaning residential.”

“It’s more than I had. What about vic comps?”

“I’m giving what we got from the Mira Institute another full scan, but what I got is all business and political bullshit. Callendar’s on Wymann. Juju’s got Betz.”

“Juju?”

“Cuz, I got it.” Red Dreads grinned at Eve.

She thought it looked as if someone had splattered his round white face with specks of red paint and called them freckles.

“Getting down on the Betz,” he said, tapping the toes of lightning-blue air boots laced to his knees. “Dude’s flush. Be flusher he didn’t ride slow ponies. Got two digs that show, one’s in the Apple, other’s rum and cigars. Pulls it in, doesn’t put much out. Got megs game for skirts for creaky. Lists ’em, flips ’em. Likes wheels, got three, mucho slap for zipping.”

“Just . . . stop.” Eve held up her hand as her head was starting to throb. “Does this guy speak English?”

“Bilingual,” Juju claimed with another happy grin. “American and geek. Like geek better.”

He turned the grin on Callendar. “Fluid?”

“Def. Fizz me cherry.”

“Check it. Black Death, Cap’n?”

“No, go with the sweet. Double Callendar.”

“Yo. McNab?”

“Triple it.”

He stood, showing himself to be well over six feet. An easy six-four, Eve judged, maybe helped a bit by the platform airboots with silver stars over the blue. “You up?”

“No. Whatever it is.”

“Cube it, thanks,” Peabody told him when he circled a finger at her.

“Covered.” He bopped out.

“My head hurts.”

Callendar offered Eve an easy shrug and smile. “He can go deep into e-jive, but he’s got the juju. He said how this Betz has money, and plenty, but he loses at the track pretty regularly. He bets the horses, and doesn’t win. He has two properties on official records—the one here in New York, and another in Cuba.”

“I want that data. We’ll have Cuba checked out.”

“You’ll get it. He also said this Betz is a—What’s it?—ladies’ man or whatever. Has a lot of women for being a guy his age. And he keeps a record of them handy, so he can have their names and, when he needs to, like shuffle or rotate them.”

“Christ. I want all that data.”

“We’ll make that so. Dude has three vehicles, and a whole buncha speeding violations.”

“Those, too. Let’s see if we can find out where he wants to get in such a hurry. It’s a good start.”

“Juju’s start,” Callendar said. “I’ve got the econ dude’s e’s. What shows on them is he doesn’t—didn’t—gamble, not that shows on his e’s. Unlike Betz—Juju was saying he took a lot in, financially, from the family businesses, and didn’t do much work—econ dude clocked in. He put in time, worked the job. Plenty of fun time for him. Vacays, trips. Got a lot of photos on his comps, and I’m IDing family. Got a grandson he’s bookmarked theater articles and reviews on, and there’s mail between them, friends, family. Some work. He didn’t keep a list of ‘dates,’ but he has a bunch of names and contacts of the female variety. Multiple properties—some straight investment, but also a flat in London and a place in East Hampton.”

“Okay, if they got their hands on keys, they could be using the place in East Hampton, or one of the other vics’ second houses. But . . .”

Too easy, Eve thought. Just too straight.

“They’d have their own. Couldn’t set all this up on the fly. We’ll have the secondary residences, even the income properties checked out. We need to eliminate.”

She checked the time. The day was streaming by, and Betz’s time was dwindling. “Send me everything, and whatever else you hit. I’m going to check with Yancy on a possible, then I’m in my office for now. I need to think.”

She went out as Juju bopped back with a tray of jumbo fizzies. He sent that mega-happy grin toward Peabody. “Check,” he said, and pulled one out of the tray.

“Thanks.”

When she started to dig out credits, he swiped a finger in the air. “Treat.”

They tapped knuckles before he bopped on.

“He’s good,” Peabody said before she slurped some fizzy. “I’ve hung with him a few times.”

“If Feeney put him on it, that’s good enough for me. Go on down, start digging on Downing. Deep.”