Indulgence in Death (In Death #31)(91)

“Of course, of course. This is such a shock. I’m going to contact our security, and have this checked yet again.”

“I think that would be wise. Again, we’re sorry to disturb you at home, and with such distressing news. Thank you for your time.”

“I’m more than happy to give you my time under these tragic circumstances. This is a terrible business.”

He chose a grim expression this time, and Eve thought he selected his facial reactions the way a man might pick the correct tie.

“I want to contact Meryle, offer my support and sympathy. That won’t be a problem, officially, will it?”

“Not at all. We won’t keep you any longer. If we could have that guest list, or even a handful of names, we’ll get out of your way.”

“Let me just tell Mizzy to make you a copy.” He rose, walked to a house ’link.

“Nice shoes,” Eve said with a casual smile. “The silver accessory gives them some jump, but they look comfortable.”

“Thank you, and they are. Stefani invariably marries comfort and style. Mizzy, would you make a copy of last night’s guest list for Lieutenant Dallas? Yes, dear. Thank you.”

He walked back, picked up his coffee again. “It won’t take a minute. Have you ever dined on Delaflote?” he asked her.

“I couldn’t say.”

“Ah, if you had, you could and would say.” He forgot to look grim or sorrowful as delight twinkled over his face. “I’m surprised Roarke wouldn’t have indulged you.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad since we’ve missed our chance there. Still, I lean toward Italian,” she said, thinking of the pizza she’d shared with Roarke the night before.

Mizzy, yet another red uniform, strode in, brisk on toothpick heels. “Here you are, Lieutenant. The guest list, with contact data. Is there anything else I can do?”

“This should cover it. Thanks again.” Eve rose, held out a hand to Dudley. “Shoot, sorry, lost track. Interview end.”

“Mizzy will show you out. Please keep me up to date on these matters.”

“You’ll be first in line.”

After they’d walked out, gotten into their vehicle, Eve let her own smirk free. “You caught the footwear?”

“Oh, yeah, and now we’ve got them on record, with his murdering feet in them.”

“Murdering feet?”

“Well, he’s a murderer and the feet are attached to him. Solid alibi,” Peabody added. “And the first red-suited bombshell mentioned Moriarity was at the party, so it’s looking like he’ll have one, too.”

“Easy drive from here to the Simpson place. I clocked it at six minutes. Maybe shave off a minute that time of night, but stick with twelve for the round-trip, ten to do the kill, add another two at most to gloat and pack up the wine.”

Eve gave a last glance at the Dudley house in the rearview as she drove away. “Big party, drinks flowing, people wandering around outside, in the house. Who’s going to notice one guest slipping out for under a half hour?”

“It’s a little squishy. But they’re all really rich people, and people of the same type tend to stick together. I bet more than half the people who were there will swear Moriarity was.”

“Then we’d better prove he wasn’t, for at least the time needed to skewer Delaflote. Next, there’s going to be a past connection between the vic and Dudley. We find it. The vic’s got about ten years on him, so they didn’t go to school together. We’ll search the society and gossip shit first. And we dig into the vic, see what he had in common with Dudley. If they traveled to the same places, had any common interests.”

She engaged the dash ’link, contacted Feeney.

“Yo,” he said.

“I’ve got an image of Dudley in the same f**king shoes he wore on Coney Island. Can you compare images, get me a match?”

“Bring it in. Amusement park’s image isn’t pristine, but we ought to be able to give you a solid probability.”

“Heading in now. I’m going to need you and that match later today. I need ammo, and plenty of it, to talk my way into search warrants.”

“We’ll take our best shot. What time later?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

She clicked off. “Book us a conference room.”

“For when?”

“For starting now until I’m damn well finished with it. I need more room to spread this out. I need a bigger board while you’re at it and a second comp, and I need Baxter and Trueheart.”

“I need a million dollars and a smaller ass. I was just throwing that in the pot.” Peabody shrugged off Eve’s snarl, and got to work.

A block from Central her communicator signaled. She used her wrist unit to answer.

Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve.

“No f**king way.”

Obscenities over official communication can result in a reprimand. Report to Central Park, Great Hill Jogging Track. See Detectives Reineke and Jenkinson.

“On what matter?” Eve demanded.

Possible homicide, possible connection to previous ongoing investigations. Urgent request for you from your detectives. Acknowledged.

“Acknowledged. Goddamn it,” she said as soon as she cut off the transmission. “Tag one of those guys now.” Eve cut west, cursing all the way, then headed back uptown.