Judgment in Death (In Death #11)(76)

She looked at him. "Rue MacLean."

If he was annoyed or surprised, he didn't show it. "You suspect her?"

"She manages Purgatory, knows or should know what goes down there. Now you tell me Ricker used to own the place, and we know IAB suspects or suspected a connection. If he's doing any business there, she should've known about it. And," she concluded, "you already thought of that."

"I did a run on her yesterday. Deep search. Computer, results of search on MacLean, Rue, on screen three. You can study the data yourself," he told Eve. "I found nothing to alarm me. Overmuch. But then again, if she's playing with Ricker, she'd be careful. She knows me."

"Would she risk it?"

"I wouldn't have thought so."

Eve scanned the financial first. "Jesus, Roarke, you pay her a goddamn mint."

"Which traditionally inspires loyalty. She essentially runs the club. She earns her salary. You'll see she enjoys the financial rewards and doesn't pinch her credits. She took a vacation to Saint Barthelemy this winter. Ricker's known to have a base near there."

He paused for a moment, strolling over to pour himself a brandy. "I intend to ask her about that tomorrow."

"Just ask her?"

"That's right, and I'll know if she's lying."

Eve studied his face: cool, hard, ruthless. Yes, he would know, and God help MacLean if she lied. "I'd rather you didn't. I'll ask her."

"If she's connected in any way to Ricker, it's a very tenuous connection to your case. She's my employee, and I deal with my own."

"If you scare her off -- "

"If she has reason to be frightened, she'll have nowhere to go. Then she'll be yours to question. Do you have more names?"

"You're not cooperating."

"On the contrary." He spread his hands, indicating the room and the busy equipment. "Let me ask you a question, Lieutenant. Are you after a killer or Max Ricker?"

"I'm after a killer," she snapped. "And since Ricker's hooked to it somewhere, I intend to haul them both."

"Because he's connected to the case, or once was, to me?"

"Both." She shifted her stance, an unconscious move into combat. "So what?"

"Nothing. Unless, when the time comes, you intend to stand between us." He studied his brandy. "But why borrow trouble? Names?"

She didn't intend to borrow anything. But she fully intended to get to Ricker first. "Webster, Lieutenant Don."

The faintest smirk touched his mouth. "Well now, isn't that interesting? What do you suspect him of? Being the killer or being a target?"

"At the moment, neither, which is the same as both. He tailed me today. Maybe it was like he said, to apologize for being an idiot. Or maybe that whole business was staged. I want all the facts before I decide to trust him."

Saying nothing, Roarke tapped keys and had data shooting onto a screen.

"You already ran him?"

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Roarke said coolly. "Webster appears to be as clean as the traditional whistle. Which, using the standard you applied to Roth, puts him on your suspect list."

"Except for one thing." She moved closer to the screen, frowning over the data. "He knew about Kohli, helped set it all up. Why take out a straight cop? Going from evidence, from my own instincts, and from Mira's profile, I'm looking for someone avenging themselves. Someone who's taking out cops who went wrong. Webster was one of the few who knew Kohli hadn't. So no, I'm not looking at him for this, not if he's clean."

"And if he wasn't?"

"Then maybe I could've stretched it that he took Kohli out because Kohli was clean and knew Webster wasn't. What are these payments here? Steady outlay every month for the last two years to LaDonna Kirk."

"He's got a sister, divorced. She's going to medical school. He's helping her out."

"Hmmm. Could be a blind."

"It's legitimate. I checked. She's in the top ten percent of her class, by the way. He gambles occasionally," Roarke continued, sipping his brandy. "Small stakes, typical entertainment gambling pattern. He springs for season tickets for arena ball every year and has an affection for suits made by an overpriced and, in my opinion, woefully inferior designer. He doesn't put much away for a rainy day, but lives within his means. Which isn't difficult. He makes twice as much as you do, at the same rank. I'd complain about that."

"Desk jockeys," Eve said with obvious disdain. "Who can figure it? You went awfully deep on him."

"I prefer being thorough."

She decided, under the circumstances, to leave it at that. "He wants in."

"I beg your pardon?"

"On the case, Roarke. He wants me to let him in on the homicide investigation. He's feeling used and abused at the way it was set up. I believe him."

"Are you asking me my opinion?"

Relationships, she thought darkly, were so often a major pain in the ass. "I'm asking you if it's going to cause any problems around here if I let him in."

"If I said yes?"

"Then he stays out. He'd be useful, but I don't need him."