Calculated in Death (In Death #36)(98)

“And drive the van.”

“Right. Alexander doesn’t like to pay, so he’s got me multitasking. I’m okay with it because he’s a steady revenue stream. I just drive his ass-kicker to the offices, then when he scoops the accountant, I take them to the apartment. No problem with the codes, so I just wait in the van. See? I never laid a hand on her. I was in the van.”

“Okay, that makes sense. What happened? Take me through it.”

“So, well, after she’s scooped in the back, she’s making some noise. The ass-kicker knocks her around a little. Look, I’m sorry about that, but it happens. It can be a rough business.”

“Understood.”

“Me, I just drive, then I check the security, the locks. We’re go. I get back in the van to wait. He’s not gone all that long. I don’t know, I was working on my portable, so time passed. He comes back.”

“And?” Eve said after a moment.

“That’s it. Guy’s not much of a talker. I just dropped him off back at Alexander and Pope like he told me, took the van back to the garage where I keep it, and caught a cab home.”

“Who’s the ass-kicker?”

“Don’t know.”

“Milo.”

“Truth.” He held up his right hand as if taking an oath. “Do. Not. Know. Don’t want to know. He’s a scary kind of guy, and I figured if I poked around there, things could get harsh. It’s not like we hooked up for jobs regular. I’d only seen him a couple times before, and after all this, I don’t want to see him again.”

She leaned toward believing him, but she’d push on it later.

“He didn’t say anything about Dickenson?”

“He didn’t say anything about anything, except take him back to the offices. He had her briefcase, and weird, I thought, her coat. I just figured he was giving her the business, making her get home without the coat. Bitching cold that night. Then I saw how she’d been killed. They said a mugging, but . . .”

“You knew better.”

“Well, it could have been a mugging, but I figured something went bad. I didn’t ask any questions. When you start asking questions, you’re asking for trouble.”

“You didn’t ask any questions when Alexander told you to break into the Brewer building, into the offices, into Dickenson’s comp, the safe, take and/or destroy files?”

“That’s a job.” Milo set the edges of his hands on the table as if putting the matter into a box. “Now, sure, you have to ask some questions, but it was pretty straightforward. I tried to tell him I could take care of the files before, but he didn’t want to pay the fee. He ended up paying it anyway, right? Cheap prick.”

“Did you ask questions when he told you to hack into the hospital’s communication and security?”

“Just standard ones, so I could program the job. Look, the same elements apply. I didn’t know they were going to kill Parzarri. I mean, grab some reality, right? The guy was good at his work.”

“What did you figure?”

“I figured Alexander wanted his guy to scare Parzarri, to make sure he hadn’t blown it, talked to anyone. He was incommunicado for a few days, and Alexander started to sweat it. Especially after you got in his face. Man, he was steamed.”

“Was he?”

“Maximum steam. Okay, full disclosure. Total cooperation. He wanted me to hack into your comms—at Central, portable, at home. Let me say you’ve got some major mag shielding. I didn’t have time to get through it. So what I did, I got the other cop’s—the one who was in here?”

“Detective Peabody.”

“Yeah. NYPSD has some decent shielding, but it’s doable. I ran the locator on her comm. That’s how the ass-kicker knew where you’d be.”

“But you didn’t ask questions.”

“I had to figure he wanted to mess you up some, scare you off. I figure that’s stupid. He does that, you’re just going to put it together, but he doesn’t pay me for advice. Tossing that kid, that’s cold, man. That was very unchill. Superior catch, by the way.”

“Thanks. Let’s go back to Parzarri for a minute, just to tie it up. You hacked in, got the data on the shuttle flight, the ambulance crew, generated the fake IDs, sent the fake communication.”

“Yeah, that was the job.”

“And drove the ambulance.”

“That’s a kick.” He actually grinned. “Lights, sirens. A rush.”

“But while you’re driving, Milo, while you’re getting that rush, Parzarri’s in the back being smothered.”

“I didn’t know. Seriously, you have to pay attention when you’re driving an ambulance.”

“Tell me what you thought when you left it, and Parzarri at the underpass, switched cars?”

“Just like before.” His eyes cut away. “Putting a little scare into him.”

You’re lying now, Eve thought. Lying, weaselly little f**ker.

“Putting a scare in him by leaving him hurt, since you didn’t know he was dead. Hurt and alone. Taking his suitcase, just driving off.”

“I got paid for the hack, the driving. That’s it, that’s all. And I wasn’t going to say anything. The ass-kicker looked . . . kind of pumped. Gave me a bad feeling. We’re supposed to go to the WIN building, so the ass-kicker can talk to Ingersol.”