Leverage in Death: An Eve Dallas Novel (In Death #47)(51)

“Banks wasn’t aware you handled his day-to-day.”

“Anything I dealt with for him I dealt with as Tad Schultz. I met with him a few times, but primarily stayed in the background.”

“Did you have a personal relationship with him?”

“Oh hell no.” At Eve’s arched brows she sighed again, looked longingly at her ’link. “He gave me the rush the first time we met, and I blocked it the way I’ve found is most effective. I told him I was gay even though when I actually have time for sex I prefer men. It’s just easier to block a client or an exec by claiming to play for the other team. Nobody gets insulted.”

“When’s the last time you had contact?”

“Well, yesterday. He tried to get to Senior Mr. Schultz or Tad, but he gets forwarded to me. He thinks—thought—I worked as a kind of admin, or messenger service. Whatever. I dealt with it—via text and e-mail. He wanted to sell his recently acquired Quantum stock after the bombing, which was a stupid move. Emotional. Quantum is solid, and that stock was coming back up—which it did, and which I, in a text as Tad, told him. So I saved the client from losing many thousands of dollars, which I guess doesn’t really matter to him now.”

“Did you have many who wanted to sell?”

“Some, and a few of the some refused to listen to me. They lost money. The ones who listened when I said buy now made money.”

“When did you last see Banks?”

“It has to be three months ago. Tad wanted to dump him on me, so he took me to one of the monthly lunches—which he still does to keep Banks mollified. He told Banks I was an up-and-comer and smart as they came—which is true, but he pushed it because he wanted to pass Banks to me. It was pretty clear Banks considered me just the cutest little thing, and that was enough for both Tad and me to decide the shift wouldn’t work, at least not overtly. I agreed to the covert angle.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m an up-and-comer and smart as they come. I’m working my way up, and handling this account, doing Senior Mr. Schultz and Tad a solid? It’s a step on the ladder. Does that cover it?”

“Almost. Where were you this morning between one and three?”

“In bed—alone—sleeping.”

“Before that?”

“I was here until about seven-thirty. I met a client at eight for a dinner meeting that ran until after ten. I went home where my roommate and I—platonic—bitched to each other about our day, then I went to bed.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Before Eve reached the door, Agatha was on her ’link. “Cheryl, I’m back.”

“Redhead,” Peabody said as they walked out, “but not that redhead.”

“Unlikely. We’ll run her anyway, just cover that angle. Say she did bump uglies with Banks. He feeds her inside information, she uses it to advise clients and work her way up that ladder.”

As Eve drove uptown again through the drip, drip, drip, Peabody did the run.

“Jeez! She’s seriously smart as they come. Yale grad, top of her class. I do mean top as in number one. She speaks four languages including Mandarin. Only child, no marriages or cohabs. Dallas, she’s only twenty-five, and she speaks four languages. No criminal.”

Peabody looked wistfully into the rain. “I wish I spoke four languages.”

“You speak two. Civilian and cop. That’s enough for anybody. She half fits. She’s focused, detail and goal oriented, and being in finance, a gambler. Not strong or tall enough to break Banks’s neck. No military in the family?”

“No. Her mother was ambassador to Italy when she was a kid, so they lived there for three years—Italian’s one of her languages. Father’s a political consultant. They’re based in East Washington, but have a place in New York. No military service there. Grandparents still living, both sides, but none there, either. Wait, wait, she has a cousin who served four years in the Army—but he was a corpsman. And now he’s a doctor—based in Atlanta.”

Eve let the angle go for now, and pulled up in front of Banks’s building. A different doorman strolled over, but with the same deference as the night before.

“Can I help you, Lieutenant? Detective?”

“Access to Jordan Banks’s apartment.”

“Of course. I heard the bulletin. It’s shocking.”

“Has anyone inquired about Mr. Banks this morning?”

“Not to me.”

He let them inside. A different security clerk, a black-suited, sharp-eyed woman—manned the desk.

“Rhoda, Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody need access to the Banks unit.”

“I’ll clear that immediately. We’re all stunned by what happened.”

“Have you cleared anyone else into that unit?”

“No. I did check the log and I see that the night security recorded Mr. Banks requesting a cab at eight-fifty-three. One was ordered, and he departed the building at nine. He wasn’t logged back in. I can contact the cab company and ask for his destination, if it’s helpful.”

“I’ve got it.”

She moved to the elevator, got in with Peabody.

“Roarke’s building?”

Eve scowled, just a little. “Yeah.”