Imitation in Death (In Death #17)(34)

She started to speak again, then looked up when McNab came off the elevator.

"Lieutenant, no disc run since eight this morning. Nothing from the outside unit, elevator, or the hall on this floor. Best I can tell, he jmmed it by remote from outside before entering the building. I could verify, but I don't have ny tools on me.",

He held out his hands, a half-ass smile on his face, to indicate his baggy red shorts, blue cinch vest, and toeless airsneaks.

"Then go get some," she began.

"I happen to have a few things in the car that might help with that," Roarke interrupted.. "Why don't I give you a hand, Ian?'

"That would be mag. It's pretty decent security, so I figure if he went remote, it had to be police-issue level or above. Can't tell unless I can get into the panel and check the board Eve straightened, then held out a hand. Roarke grasped her forearm, and she his, to help him to his feet. "Go ahead. Get me best guess on what he used."

Oh eight hundred for entry, she thought. With the time of death she'd established, he'd spent no more than an hour on Lois Gregg. More time than Wooton, more time to play, but still fast.

She went back in, walked to the kitchen.

Jeffrey Gregg wasn't weeping now, but the tears already shed had wrecked his face. It was red and swollen, much like his mother's.

He sat at a small laminated table, his hands cupped around a glass of water. His brown hair stood up in tufts from where she imagined he'd pulled at it, raked his fingers through it, in his grief.

She judged him to be somewhere in his early thirties, and dressed in brown shorts and a white T-shirt for a casual summer Sunday.

She sat across from him, waited until those damaged eyes lifted to hers.

"Mr. Gregg, I'm Lieutenant Dallas. I need to talk to you."

"They said I couldn't go in and see her. I should go in. When I-when I found her, I didn't go in. I just ran out again, and called the police. I should've gone in-something. Covered her up?"

"No. You did exactly the right thing. You helped her more by doing just exactly what you did. I'm sorry, Mr. Gregg. I'm very sorry for your loss."

Useless words, she knew. Goddamn useless words. She hated saying them. Hated not being able to count the number of times they'd forced themselves 'out of her mouth.

"She never hurt anybody." He managed to lift the glass to his lips. "I think you should know that. She never hurt anybody in her life. I don't understand how somebody could do this to her."

"What time did you come here today?" She knew already, but would take him through the details, the repetition.

"I, ah, came over about three, I think. Maybe closer to four. No, nearer to three. I'm so mixed up. We were supposed to have this afternoon cookout at my sister's in Ridgewood. My mother was supposed to come by our place. We're over on 39th. We were all going to take the train over to New Jersey. She was supposed to be at our. place by one."

He gulped some water. "She runs late -a lot. We tease her about it, but when it got to be like two, I started calling to move her along. She didn't answer, so I figured she was on her way. But she didn't show. I called her pocket number, but that didn't answer either. My wife and kid were getting restless and annoyed. Me, too. I was getting pissed off."

Remembering that, he began to cry. again. "I was really steamed that I had to come over here and get her. I wasn't worried so much, not really. I never thought anything had , happened to her, and all the time she was..."

"When you got here," Eve prompted, "you let yourself in. You. have a key?".

"Yeah, I got access to the outside door and her apartment. I was thinking, something wrong with her 'links, that's all. She forgets to bump them sometimes and they go out. Something's wrong with her 'links and she's lost track of time. That's what I was thinking when I let myself in. I called out to her, like: `Mom! Damn it, Mom, we were supposed to leave for Mizzy's two hours ago.' And when she didn't answer, I thought, Oh crap, she's on her way to my place and I'm over here, and this is so irritating. But I walked to the bedroom door anyway. I don't even know why. And she was God.' God. Mom."

. He broke down again, and Eve shook her head at the MT before he could move in with a tranq.

"Mr. Gregg. Jeff, you have to hold it together. You have to help me. Did you see anyone near-the apartment, anyone outside?"

"I don't know." He mopped at his streaming face. "I was irritated and in a hung. I didn't see anything special."

"Did your mother mention being uneasy about anything, noticing something, someone who worried her?"

"No. She's lived here for a dozen years. It's a nice building. Secure." He took deep breaths to steady his voice. "She knows her neighbors. Leah and me, we're only ten blocks away. We see each other every week. She'd've told me if something was wrong."

"How about your father?"

"They' split, God, twenty-five years ago. He lives out in Boulder. They don't see each other much, but they get along okay. Jesus, Jesus, my father wouldn't have done this." The hitch came back in his voice, and he began to rock himself. "You'd have to be crazy to do this to somebody."

"It's just routine. Was she involved with anyone?"