Leverage in Death: An Eve Dallas Novel (In Death #47)(53)

“Once they’re cleared, anything to stop them from accessing another floor?”

“They’d need a keycard. If I clear someone for level twenty, they’re restricted to that level.”

“But the residents aren’t restricted.”

“No.”

“In the event of fire or another emergency?”

“All elevators and exits are automatically opened. That didn’t happen. It would have been logged. So would any anomaly lasting five seconds. If the feed had a glitch, the glitch—type, time, duration, would be recorded. We’re a Five Lock building, Lieutenant, the highest security rating given.”

She linked her hands together as she looked around the bedroom. “I’m at a loss.”

“No building’s a hundred percent secure,” Eve commented. “Somebody gets their pocket picked, somebody makes a copy of their keycard for their newest lover, whatever. Do you know every person who lives here, by sight and name?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Eve stopped, turned, interested. “Seriously?”

“It’s my job. We’re currently at ninety-three percent occupancy with six hundred and thirty-four units occupied, eighteen hundred and sixteen residents—including live-in staff. We employ more than three hundred full-and part-time staff to serve and service the building. Not including outside marketing and seasonal workers and subcontractors on our call list.”

“Huh. Who lives in the unit across the hall from this one?”

“Ms. Yuri and Mr. Simston, and Ms. Yuri’s mother, Mrs. Yuri—a widow—and Georgie, their Yorkie. They’re currently in Aruba, but are expected back by late afternoon tomorrow.”

“Unit 3100.”

The first glimmer of a smile dawned in Rhoda’s eyes. “Ms. Karlin, Mr. Howard. Newlyweds. They were married last fall. Ms. Karlin divorced Mr. Olsen shortly after I began work here four years ago. He was granted custody of their Persian cat. Yasmine. Unit 3100 hosted a dinner party last night. Catered.”

“How many guests?”

Rhoda closed her eyes a moment, nodded to herself. “Dinner for twenty. Cocktails at seven-thirty. Catered by Jacko’s, arrival at six. Florist delivery, that’s Urban Gardens . . . four-thirty. That’s approximate.”

“Roarke knows how to pick them.”

“I do,” he said from the doorway.

“Sir.” Rhoda turned to him. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I’d like you to review the overnight feed, mark anyone you don’t know. The lieutenant will need a list of residents, staff, logged guests, delivery companies, and so on. You know what to do.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll have a copy of the feed ready for you and the police.”

“I have it. Do you need more from Rhoda at the moment?” he asked Eve.

“Just one more thing. Other than the newlyweds, any other parties here last night?”

“Six catered, and three others. And a number of drop-bys. I can have all of that for you.”

“Okay. I’ll let you get to it.”

“Sir. We could lose a lock on our rating.”

“One thing at a time,” Roarke told Rhoda, giving her shoulder a pat to move her along.

When she left, Roarke watched Eve continue to search.

“I think he had almost as many clothes as you do,” she commented. “Just the one safe, in here, I came across on my sweep. It’s open. I can’t tell if they had the code or broke in.”

Roarke slipped inside, crouched down to examine the safe. He took out one of his toys, ran some sort of scan.

“Scan,” he told her. “Eight-digit code, and it was opened with a reader. It’s a simple lock. I expect someone like Banks would have had the code tucked somewhere so he wouldn’t have to remember it, but this was scanned. The bulletins haven’t disclosed cause of death.”

“Broken neck—manually. Dumped in the water. Made to look like a mugging—took his coat, shoes, valuables. No ’link on the body.”

“They didn’t bother to make this look like a burglary,” Roarke said. “He has jewelry in here, his passport which is always worth a bit of something on the black market. And there’s art and other easily liquidated things throughout the place. Likely he had some cash in here, and that’s gone. But cash can’t be traced, so why not?”

“You’re pissed. Me, too. But it’s not that challenging to get into an apartment, even in a secure building, when you know the occupant’s dead or going to be. Can you take that toy, see if the locks were compromised, or if that’s a straight entry, too?”

“I can.”

He left her. By the time he came back, she’d moved on to the sports closet.

“Jammed and scanned—bedroom level.”

She stopped, eyes narrowed. “So they didn’t wait to do it the easy way, with his keycard and codes off the body. Broke in before they killed him. Why is that? Because it’s easier to cross a lobby to an elevator before, say midnight, then it is at after three in the morning. A lot of people still coming and going at like ten, eleven at night. Parties, heading out for a drink, coming in from dinner and all that. Several parties happening in the building, and that’s going to be fairly routine. Caterers, deliveries, guests.”