Devoted in Death (In Death #41)(6)

AutoChef engaged. What would you like, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve?

“One coffee black, one coffee regular, both in go-cups.”

One moment, please. Is front-seat delivery desired?

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s desired.”

“I didn’t know it did that,” Peabody piped up. “I thought it was just backseat – Whoa!”

Order complete, the computer announced as two go-cups slid out from under the dash.

“That is totally iced.”

“It better not be iced.” Eve snagged the go-cup with the black top, leaving the cream-colored top for Peabody.

It was hot and strong and perfect.

“I love this ride,” Peabody stated, cuddling her coffee.

“Don’t get used to the coffee service. Maybe the next time it’s shy of five a.m., minus three with a windchill of you don’t f*cking want to know, we’ll do it again. Otherwise, forget it.”

Peabody only smiled, took the first glorious sip. “I love this ride,” she repeated.

2

Eve concluded playing a big, fat violin paid pretty well. Dorian Kuper had lived in a two-level apartment in a meticulously rehabbed building – one that had survived the Urban Wars. It stood, bright white brick and long sheets of glass gleaming, in a tony area of the Upper West Side.

When the doorman, wearing a classic black topcoat over his livery, greeted her by rank instead of snooty insults on the bland appearance of the DLE she drove, she knew Roarke owned the building. Obviously Doorman Frank had gotten the memo.

“How can I help you today, Lieutenant?”

“We need access to Dorian Kuper’s apartment.”

His round, almost cherubic face fell. “I was afraid of that. Please, come inside, out of the wind. I heard Mr. Kuper was missing. I guess you found him, and I guess it’s not good.”

She stepped inside, into warmth and white marble veined with gray, into the strangely spicy scent of whatever the masses of bold flowers cast off from their silver urn on the central table.

“We found him. It’s not good,” she confirmed.

“This will crush Ms. McKensie. His mother. They were really tight. He was a nice guy, Lieutenant, I just want to say. Always had a word, you know?”

“Do you know anyone who didn’t think he was such a nice guy?”

“Not right off, I’m sorry. He had a lot of friends. They’d come over for parties, for music.”

“Girlfriends, boyfriends?”

Frank shifted on his feet.

“Anything you can tell us,” Peabody said, adding a light touch to his arm. “Anything may help us find who killed him.”

“I get it, but it’s hard to talk about a resident’s personal life. I’d say Mr. Kuper had both, and nothing really serious.”

“All right. Has anyone been around in the past couple weeks, asking about him?” Eve asked. “Any former friend make any trouble?”

“Not that I know of. And when you’re on the door, you usually know.”

“Okay, Frank, thanks. I need you to clear us up to his place.”

“Sixth floor. Apartment six hundred. That’s the main entrance. I’ll clear the first elevator. I need to get clearance to get his pass key and code. It’ll take a minute.”

“I’ve got a master. We’ll get in.”

With a nod, Frank walked over to a blank granite counter, tapped and brought up a screen. “Lobby droid’s in the back. I don’t activate her this early. It’s usually quiet, so what’s the point? You’re clear, Lieutenant.”

He cleared his throat as Eve and Peabody stepped to the elevator. “Ah, does his mom know?”

“We’ll speak to her after we see his apartment. Like you said, it’s early. No reason to wake her up with this kind of news.”

“It’s going to crush her. They doted on each other, you know?”

Though she didn’t know what it was to have a mother dote on her, or to dote back, Eve nodded before she stepped into the elevator.

Ascending to sixth floor, the computer announced as they started to rise, proving Frank as efficient as any droid.

“Nice guy, lots of friends, loved his mother, bisexual.” Eve considered. “Not a bad rundown from a doorman in a couple minutes.”

“He looked sad,” Peabody commented. “When the doorman looks sad, you know you’re going to be dealing with a lot of sad in an investigation.”

“If you want happy, don’t be a murder cop. Or a cop period,” Eve decided.

The elevator opened to a wide hallway carpeted in dignified gray with the classy touch of artwork arranged on the walls. Curved tables holding slim, clear vases of white flowers ranged between apartment doors.

Six hundred took the west corner farthest from the elevator. Prime real estate in a prime building. Yeah, Eve thought, playing the big, fat violin brought in the bucks.

“Full security,” she noted, engaging her recorder. “Cam, palm plate, double police locks.”

She bypassed all with her master, opened the right side of the double entrance doors. Lights that had been off went automatically to a soft ten percent illumination.

“Convenient,” she said, “but not enough. Lights on full,” she ordered.

“Wow.” Peabody’s eyes widened as the light strengthened. “It’s totally uptown.”