Vendetta in Death (In Death #49)(84)

“What did she look like?” Eve demanded.

“Like a street snatch.”

Eve knew his type. Hard-ass, didn’t like cops, and hoped to shrug them off.

Not going to happen.

“Tiller, would you rather have this conversation in the box at Central?”

“You can get off my case,” he tossed back. “What the fuck do I know? I work the bar, I hold this crap joint together for a shitty paycheck, shittier tips, and the shithole apartment upstairs. Might not even have that much longer, as the dickwads who own the place and don’t put a goddamn dime into it start talking about selling it off. Bad frigging investment. I do my job, you get it? And my job isn’t to pay attention to some pross. I got her a beer, that’s it.”

“Try again. How old was she?”

“Fucking A.” He wasn’t happy, Eve judged, but he knew when he hit up against another hard-ass—and one with a badge. “Old enough to drink. Probably old enough to have a kid old enough to drink.”

“Give me a range.”

“Shit. Maybe forty. She looked used up.”

“Race?”

“Who gives a shit?”

“I do.”

“White probably. I keep the lights down, okay? It’s not like we get high-class in here.”

“Hair color.”

“Fuck me!” He drained the rest of the seaweed, then frowned as if the taste had jogged something. “Purple.”

“You’re sure?” Eve pressed, thinking of the black hair. “Light or dark?”

“Shit, purple-purple, what I know? Like those smelly flowers on the big bushes.”

“Lilacs?” Peabody suggested, and he half toasted her with his empty seaweed glass.

“Yeah, that stuff. Covered half her face now that I think about it. But you could see a scar down her cheek. She wasn’t nothing to get wood over, you ask me, but that don’t matter to Kagen, the asshole.”

“He left with her?”

“Yeah. She left a damn near full beer and takes him off for a bang or BJ. Not my business.”

“What time did she come in? What time did they leave?”

“Jesus!” Muscles and tats rippled when he threw up his hands. “I don’t the fuck know. You can drag my sorry ass to Central, and I still won’t know. I had customers, okay? The cheap-ass owners won’t even pay for a server. I’m on my own, every frigging night, six to two.”

“Did you have the Yankee-Red Sox game on the bar screen?”

He gave Eve his tired sneer. “Shit yeah, what else?”

“What inning was it when she came in?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. Narrowed his eyes. “Bottom of the fifth. One out, runner on second. Jeraldo takes a ball, then knocks a nice blooper to right field. Runners on the corners. And what does that asshole Murchini do? He hits into a double play, retires the side with two on. She walked in about when Murchini came to the plate.”

“Okay. What inning did they leave?”

“Huh. Wait a minute.” Replaying the ball game tweaked his interest, just enough. “I’m getting her beer and the Sox go three up, three down. So bottom of the sixth. Cecil fouls back the first pitch, low and outside for ball one, he takes the next pitch, misses the corner, ball two, then he hits one to the hole. Sox shortstop’s all over it, but Cecil beats the throw to first.”

He nodded to himself. “Yeah, bottom of the sixth, they walk out with Unger coming up to bat, Duran’s on deck. Sox catcher goes to the mound to settle the pitcher down. They walk out.”

“Unger’s a monster,” Eve said conversationally. “What’s he batting, .330?”

“Yeah, that’s right. A guy who can walk out with a man on, no outs, Unger coming to the plate, the score tied two to two, that’s an asshole.”

“Can’t argue that. Would you say Kagen was drunk?”

A little less annoyed, Tiller shrugged. “He don’t ever leave here sober. Not my problem.”

“Have you seen the woman before?”

“Not in here. Outside, one street snatch is the same as the next, you ask me.”

Eve nodded to Peabody, who pulled the two sketches on her PPC, offered it to Tiller. “Did she look like either of these women?”

“Nowhere near classy like that one, nowhere near sexy like that one. Look, you ask me, no way that used-up pross offed Kagen anyway. Not unless she had somebody do it, and what for? It’s not like he had anything worth taking.”

“Did she take the stool beside him? Were there other seats, empty booths, chairs?”

“Yeah, she sat next to him. Sure there were empties. Not like we pack ’em in here, especially on weeknights.”

“Do you think they knew each other?” Peabody asked.

“Don’t know, but I haven’t seen her in here before. We get prossies come in now and then, trolling. He’d bite now and again, if they came cheap. He’s a cheap bastard, but paying for it’s the only way he’d get it, you ask me.

“Look, you gonna let me get some sleep anytime this frigging century?”

“Yeah. We appreciate your cheerful and selfless cooperation.” Knowing the futility, Eve still left a card on the bar. “If you see her again, or remember anything else, contact me.”