Haunted in Death (In Death #22.5)(22)

“Any specific jackpot?“

“He talked a lot, my father. Bragged, actually, and a lot of the bragging was just hot air. But he said he’d been holding onto an ace in the hole, waiting for the right time. It was coming up.“

“What was his hole card?“

“Can’t say he actually had one.“ Cliff heaved out a breath. “Honestly, I didn’t really listen because it was the same old, same old to me. And I wanted to get him moving before my mother got wind of the loan. But he said something about letters Bobbie Bray had written. A bombshell, he said, that was going to give Number Twelve just the push he needed. I didn’t pay much attention at the time because he was mostly full of crap.“

He winced now, drank again. “Hell of a thing to say about your dead father, huh?“

“His being dead doesn’t make him more of a father to you, Mr. Gill,“ Peabody said gently.

Cliff’s eyes went damp for a moment. “Guess not. Well, when all this started happening. I remembered how he talked about these letters, and I thought maybe he’d sold them to Bygones. Maybe there was something in them that would clear my grandfather. Something, I don’t know. Maybe she committed suicide and he panicked.“

He lowered his head, rubbed the heel of his hand in the center of his brow as if to push away some pain. “I don’t even care, or wouldn’t, except for what’s falling down from it on my mother. I don’t know what I expected Mr. Buchanan to do. I was desperate.“

“Did your father give you any indication of the contents of the letters?“ Eve asked. “The timing of them?“

“Not really, no. At the time I thought it was just saving face because I was giving him money. Probably all it was. Buchanan said he hadn’t bought any letters from my father, but I could come in and look at what he had. Waste of time, I guess. But he was nice about it – Buchanan, I mean. Sympathetic.“

“Have you discussed this with your mother at all?“ Peabody asked him.

“No, and I won’t.“ Any grief seemed to burn away as anger covered his face. “It’s a terrible thing to say, but by dying my father’s given her more trouble than he has since she divorced him. I’m not going to add to it. Chasing a wild goose anyway.“ He frowned into his glass. “I have to make some arrangements for – for the body. Cremation, I guess. I know it’s cold, but I’m not going to have any sort of service or memorial. I’m not going to drag this out. We just have to get through this.“

“Mr Gill – “

“Cliff,“ he said to Eve with a weak smile. “You should call me Cliff since I’m dumping all my problems on you.“

“Cliff. Do you know if your father kept a safety deposit box?“

“He wouldn’t have told me. We didn’t see each other much. I don’t know what he’d have kept in one. I got a call from some lawyer this morning. Said my father’d made a will, and I’d inherit. I asked him to ballpark it, and the gist was when it all shakes out, I’ll be lucky to have enough credits to buy a soy dog at a corner cart.“

“I guess you were hoping for better,“ Peabody commented.

Cliff let out a short, humorless laugh. “Hoping for better with Rad Hopkins would be another waste of time.“

Nine

“You have to feel for the guy.“ Peabody bundled her scarf around her neck as they walked back outside.

“We’ll pass off the copy of his ‘link calls to a couple of burly uniforms, have them knock on some doors and issue some stern warnings. About all we can do there for now. We’re going back to Central. I want a quick consult with Mira, and you can update the Commander.“

“Me?“Peabody’s voice hit squeak. “Alone? Myself?“

“I expect Commander Whitney would be present as you’re updating him.“

“But you do the updates.“

“Today you’re doing it. He’s going to want to set up a media conference,“ Eve added as she got into their vehicle. “Hold him off.“

“Oh my God.“

“Twenty-four hours. Make it stick,“ Eve added and pulled out into traffic as Peabody sat pale and speechless beside her.

Mira was the top profiler attached to the NYPSD for good reason. Her status kept her in high demand and made Eve’s request for a consult without appointment similar to trying to squeeze her head through the eye of a needle that was already threaded.

She had a headache when she’d finished battling Mira’s admin, but she got her ten minutes.

“You ought to give her a whip and a chain,“ Eve commented when she stepped into Mira’s office. “Not that she needs one.“

“You always manage to get past her. Have a seat.“

“No thanks, I’ll make it fast.“

Mira settled behind her desk. She was a sleek, lovely woman who favored pretty suits. Today’s was power red and worn with pearls.

“This would be pertaining to Number Twelve,“ Mira began. ”Two murders, nearly a hundred years apart. Your consults are rarely routine. Bobbie Bray.“

“You, too? People say that name like she’s a deity.“

“Do they?“ Mira eased back in her chair, her blue eyes amused. “Apparently my grandmother actually heard her perform at Number Twelve in die early Nineteen-seventies. She claimed she exchanged an intimate sexual favor with the bouncer for the price of admission. My grandmother was a wild woman.“