Kindred in Death (In Death #29)(54)

“And we’ve circled back.”

“Keep it ordinary, every day, unobtrusive on the outside. Nobody sees what’s inside. Nobody sees a monster. When he goes to get a slice or buy shoes, nobody notices him. Or, if he wants them to, they see a nice kid, good-looking young guy. Not spectacular, that they’d remember. Just good-looking, polite, barely stirs the air. We’ve got two wits who saw him with Deena, and that’s all they gave me, nearly all. We’ll do better because Yancy’s good at digging out the details, but they didn’t think about him, didn’t check him out especially. Wouldn’t have noted him at all, most likely, except he was with her. They knew her, so they noticed him.”

She snagged a second-level spot a half block from Risso’s work address, then glanced at Mira’s heels. “It’s a short hike. Can you handle that?”

“I’m a professional.”

Halfway down, Eve cursed, sighed, then vaulted over the safety rail to the sidewalk. “Be right back,” she called out as Mira gaped at her.

She’d seen the snatch, and really the mark deserved it. Bopping along, gawking at storefronts with his back pocket bulging. Or it had been until the street thief plucked out the wallet with the classic bump and grab.

The thief continued on, unhurried, with the wallet already inside the right front pocket of his pants, under the bulk of his baggy hoodie.

Eve sprinted a quarter block to close the distance, then dropped down to a brisk New Yorker’s pace. She tapped the thief on the shoulder. “Sorry, can you help me?”

He gave her a round-eyed innocent look, just another guy on the street. “What with?”

“Well, I’ve got other stuff to do, really pressed for time, so you could help me out and just hand me the wallet you just lifted. It’s in here.” She slapped her hand on his pocket. “Oh, and any other property you’ve lifted today, too. Then we can both be about our business.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Piss it.” She felt him gather to run, grabbed his shoulder.

“You could really make this quick and simple for both of us. I don’t want to take time to—Hey!”

He ducked, pivoted, squirmed like a snake shedding skin, and left her holding an empty hoodie.

He had a squat torso on squat legs. It really wasn’t even a challenge. Despite the fact she had to dodge pedestrians when the thief was content to shove, bull, and burst through them, she caught him before the end of the block.

“Help, help!” He barked it out when she pushed him face-first into the nearest building. “Police!”

“Come on, you moron, you know I’m the police.” She cuffed his hands behind his back, kneed his legs apart to make him spread them. “If you make me chase you again, you’re going to be eating sidewalk.”

She patted him down, found no weapons and six wallets.

“Any one of these yours, ass**le?”

“I found those.” Darting eyes replaced wide eyes. “I was going to find a cop and turn them in. Sweartagod.”

“Uh-huh. I saw you find this one in that guy’s back pocket. I’m sure he’s going to be really grateful.”

“I called for uniforms.” Mira hurried up on her ice-pick heels.

“Good, saves me.” She tapped the thief on the back of the head. “See? See? You just couldn’t help me out. Now we’ve both got to go through the deal. You!” She pointed at the mark who was currently one of the lookie-loos staring at the scene.

“Me? Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“Got ID?”

“Yes. Sure. I got . . .” He reached for his back pocket. “My wallet! My wallet’s gone!”

“Isn’t that a coincidence? I’ve got it right here.” Keeping one elbow in the small of the thief’s back, she held up the wallet. “It’s like magic, isn’t it? To get it back you’ll need to wait here for the uniformed officers and file a report with them.”

“I was having a good day,” the thief muttered. “A really good day.”

“It’s in the toilet now.” She held up her badge to flash the two uniforms hustling their way.

It took time she didn’t want to spend, but in the end, she supposed, justice was served.

“You gave me such a start,” Mira said. “One second you’re there, the next you’re jumping over the rail and running.”

“Yet another reason not to wear fancy duds and ankle breakers.”

“You have a point.”

They backtracked to the store where Risso was employed.

A lot of gadgetry, she noted, all under the banner: 20% Off! This Week Only! that had probably been draped there for years.

She made Risso Banks from his ID shot, and saw him make her for a cop. He strolled over, with a redwood-sized chip on his shoulder.

“Saw you take down that mug. He didn’t have any speed.”

“He had six wallets that weren’t his.”

“Crime’s everywhere.”

He was a good-looking guy—a bit on the smirky side—with a short centurion cut that looked fresh. Dark hair, sulky brown eyes. The right height and build, but she didn’t get a buzz off him.

“Do you want to talk here, Risso, or somewhere more private?”