Connections in Death (In Death #48)(65)

“Her tablet’s there on the table. We’ll wait on that.”

She turned instead to the locked door, mastered her way through.

Workstation, she noted, holding an upscale D and C unit, a nice fake leather desk chair. Office AC, friggie, wall screen. She spotted a half bath through an open door.

“He’s got a lot more space than she does,” McNab commented.

“He’s a dick as well as a crook. Go ahead and get started. I’ll take the upstairs first.”





14

She met Peabody on the steps.

“She’s getting dressed,” Peabody said. “Her friend’s with her.”

“Did she contact the lawyer?”

“She said she wanted to get dressed first, have the coffee, take a blocker for the hangover. Up there, you’ve got a good-sized master suite, a hangout room, and two other bedrooms, another bathroom, the kitchen, an eating area. Nice place.”

“Yeah. Take those to McNab. You can handle the office while he’s digging into the e’s. Let’s keep it moving.”

“On it.”

Eve continued up, glancing in the hangout room. Obviously from the empty wine bottles, glasses, remnants of the Chinese, the women had used the room for drinking and that emotional support.

She wandered the rest of the second floor, noted everything was neat except the kitchen, which showed recent activity.

She went back to the closed bedroom door, knocked.

“Yeah, come on in.”

Eldena sat—skin pants, loose top, hair brushed and pulled back in a tail—while she drank coffee and ignored the bagel her friend had probably brought her.

Lisa had pulled on sweatpants, and sat with her, chowing on her own bagel.

“I’m going to call Pete in a minute, but you should go ahead and look for whatever since you have a warrant. I was just saying to Lisa how the rent’s due next week—Sam always handles it—but I have enough to cover it. I just need to find out where to send it.”

Eve decided she could take a minute. “Eldena, you should inform your attorney that your name, along with Cohen’s, is on the mortgage for this property.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re currently co-owners of this property, this building,” Eve explained, since Eldena looked mystified. “I can tell you, he used what he told you was rent for his personal gain. Just as he used the rent from the tenants in the other half for his own gain. If your lawyer’s any good, he should be able to secure this place for you.”

Eldena held up a hand, and once again looked as if she needed to find her breath. “Are you saying this is my house?”

“I’m saying Cohen used your income and your name on the application to secure the mortgage for this property.”

“Oh God, he’s a lying liar.” She pushed up, hands waving as she stalked around the room. “He said how I had to work in the club, just a few more months, then when it was a few more, he’d say just a few more. To pay the rent, and everything. I gave up my dream because I loved the lying son of a bitch. I was in Swing on Broadway, twice! I made it to Swing, but he said how we needed the money.”

She held her hands out, breathed deep. “But this could be my house?”

“Talk to your lawyer. It should be easy enough to prove your income is what’s been paying the mortgage. Tell him we’ll be happy to share any relevant information when we can.”

“Thank you.” She squared her shoulders. “Lisa, let’s take this downstairs, get Pete on it, and leave Lieutenant Dallas to do what she has to do.”

“That’s the way, El.”

Shoulders still squared, Eldena looked at Eve. “Sam’s going to prison, isn’t he?”

“I think you can count on it.”

“I want to know, because even now I can’t really believe he would. But I want to know if he had anything to do with those people dying. Come on, Leese.”

Lisa rose, picked up the coffee and bagels as Eldena sailed out. “Kick his ass, and kick it hard.”

She intended to, Eve thought. She fully intended to.

*

She found nothing of interest on the second level—and wasn’t surprised Cohen used chemicals to get it up for his young lover. His business interests he kept locked in his office, and McNab hit a gold mine.

“It’s all here,” he told her. “He kept good records, didn’t even try to hide them. I mean, you’d think he’d have tried a wipe or something when she kicked him out.”

“He figured he’d talk his way back in. And I don’t think she gave him the time or the space before she booted him out to try the wipe anyway. So he figures to get back in, then cover up whatever he can cover up once he is. He’s stupid, and he figured she was naive and dumb and soft.

“Copy everything,” she told McNab. “The feds’ll roast him, but we’re going to start the fire.”

“Already copied.”

“Good work. Let’s move out. I want to hear anything you found on Jones and/or the Bangers when we’re out of here.”

She headed to Central with Peabody riding shotgun and McNab in the back. “Can I do the coffee thing?” he asked.

“Do it while you report.”