Connections in Death (In Death #48)(86)

After she finished her second slice.

She exchanged reports with Teasdale, felt some solid satisfaction. Thought about a third slice as she set up to write her report. Looked around at the knock on her doorjamb.

“Officer Shelby. I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I was helping in processing, Lieutenant. Officer Quirk had the individual you told him to keep separate. He’s Denby Washington, goes by Snapper.”

“Of course he does.”

“Lieutenant, he had earrings matching the description of those taken from the Pickering apartment on his person.”

“You are fucking kidding me, Shelby.”

“No, sir, I am not fucking kidding you. More, sir, he had a set of black Bodell, Exec level, earbuds also on his person.”

“Snap goes Snapper’s cage door.”

Shelby smiled a little. “I helped process an individual who goes by Ticker. Burke Chesterfield. And he had a brooch matching the description of the one taken from the Pickering apartment on his person. He was wearing—”

“Lightning high-tops,” Eve said. “Black with a white lighting bolt down the back. Size ten.”

“That’s affirmative. Sir, we had their jackets sent to the lab as they may match the fibers recovered from Duff’s body. I also got DNA from Washington as he’s not in the database. I got him a tube of Coke, which he accepted. The empty tube’s on its way to the lab.”

Eve sat back, let it play through her mind. Since she’d caught the quick glance Shelby made toward the pizza, she gestured to it. “Want a slice?”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I don’t want to take your dinner.”

“I’m good. Have a slice.”

“Thanks.” She took one, bit in, and Eve saw the same rush of gratitude and pleasure move over Shelby’s face that had moved inside her own system. “This isn’t eatery pizza.”

“You bucking to make detective, Officer?”

“No, sir. I like the uniform. I’m learning a lot from Officer Carmichael. I want to say I’m grateful you put me with him. He’s a solid cop.”

“Yeah, he is. Do me a favor, Shelby, and make sure Washington and Chesterfield are kept away from each other. And both of them away from Jones and Kenneth Jorgenson.”

“Can do, sir. Appreciate the slice.”

“No problem. Take the rest.”

“Oh, but—”

“I’m done.” Eve held up the plate with the remaining slice. “Take it. Good work, Officer Shelby.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

After a long breath, Eve turned to her computer. She had to set the anger aside, but as she’d told Roarke, she used the pain to push herself through the report.

When it was done, she sent a memo to Harvo at the lab to flag the jackets as priority. Sent one to Dickhead—the lab chief—to turn the DNA sample around fast.

She didn’t bribe him as she often did to save time, but used the silent threat of adding Whitney to the memo.

She sent a quick memo to Reo, giving her the names of the suspects, and given the age of one, asking her to have Chesterfield treated as an adult.

She ordered herself to get up, to update her board, to just take the steps. Put together files for the briefing, reserve the conference room, book interview rooms—all of them—and assign rotating teams for those interviews.

She thought about contacting Crack, but that was personal. She had to hold on that.

Instead she contacted Nadine.

“Finally! A message returned. If I can get a statement—Whoa, Dallas, somebody got past your guard. A few times.”

Unlike Reo, Nadine was in full makeup—camera ready. Eve imagined she’d been on camera, and would go back in front of it before her night ended.

After all, the NYPSD had just completed major busts on two urban gangs.

“You have to wait on the statement.”

“Come on, Dallas, we’re already running with the story—and congratulations, by the way. It’s big. They pulled me back in to report on air. I just turned it over, but with a statement I can—”

“You have to wait.”

The snap in Eve’s voice had Nadine’s eyes narrowing. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Peabody got worse.”

“Peabody? What happened? Where is she? What—”

Eve cut Nadine off again. But she knew the friend asked, not the reporter.

“She’s okay. Louise took care of her. It’s not that. No statement tonight other than what the liaison’s sending out because it’s still in motion. I’m letting you know to get ready for tomorrow, and what I’m telling you goes nowhere until I give you the green.”

“All right.”

“This was a . . .” She trailed off, pressed her fingers to her eyes in an attempt to clear her head.

“Do you want me to come to you? Can I help?”

“No. No. This was a coordinated operation between the NYPSD and the FBI.”

“The FBI? How close did you hold that one? Who—”

“Just wait, Nadine. Between the department and the bureau dozens of arrests were made, several thousand dollars—you need to get the hard numbers—of illegals have been confiscated along with weapons and blah-blah. You can get all that.”