Kindred in Death (In Death #29)(61)

“Anders.”

“Yeah, how about that? Wasn’t that long ago you were investigating his murder.”

“Small world, even for the dead, I guess. But it’s interesting as the second wit ID’d his shoes as an Anders brand. Could be brand loyalty. Get me what you can get me as soon as you get it.”

“You got it,” he said and grinned.

Back in her office she did a run on Nattie Simpson, the husband, the kid. As MacMasters had told her, Nattie was doing her time at Rikers. The husband—now ex—had relocated to East Washington, with the kid. He was thirty-five, and couldn’t pass for a teenager. The kid was ten, and couldn’t pass either.

Still, she followed through with a call to Rikers for an overview of Nattie before she crossed that angle off her list.

No connection, no pop, she thought when she’d finished.

Dead end.

She checked the search results on like crimes, and found nothing to connect to MacMasters in the last five years.

She considered adding in victims and witnesses, then decided her office unit would probably implode from that much activity. She’d do it at home.

Earmarking that for later, she began cross-referencing Deena’s box of souvenirs with the list from Lapkoff.

There, she hit fast.

“Spring musical, Shake It Up, May 15-18.”

She skimmed through it, scanning photographs, play summary, the cast and crew lists, the ads, in case Deena had made any notations.

Though she found none, she logged the playbill into evidence, bagged it.

She continued through, making ordered piles—plays, concerts, dance theater, performance art. And frowned when she came on a second playbill for Shake It Up, same dates.

“Did you take his, too, Deena? Shit, shit.” She grabbed Seal-It from her desk, coated her hands. She paged through the second book, and found a small notation inside a heart above the summary.

D&D

5/16/60

“One’s his, one’s got to be.” She logged and bagged the second playbill, then placed a ’link call to Jo Jennings.

Her mother answered. Not frazzled this time, Eve thought. Weary.

“Ms. Jennings, I need to speak with Jo.”

“Lieutenant, my girl’s wrecked. Just . . . devastated. Do you know she’s blaming herself? Blaming herself for not telling anyone Deena was seeing a boy? All she did was keep her word to her best friend, but she’s crushed with guilt for it now.”

“It may help her if she can do something to help. I just want confirmation on something, if she can give it to me. And it could be extremely important to the investigation.”

“All right. All right.” Ms. Jennings rubbed her forehead. “She’s in her room. She’s barely come out since you came and . . . She may be sleeping. I’m not going to wake her if she’s sleeping.”

The ’link cut to holding blue. Eve used her comp to e-mail a priority message to Berenski at the lab.

Have a possibility for prints re the MacMasters homicide. Will hand-deliver asap. This is priority. Don’t give me any shit.

“Lieutenant. Jo’s here. I’m going to stay with her.”

“That’s fine. Jo, I need to know if Deena went with the boy she was seeing secretly to a musical production at Columbia University. On May sixteenth.”

“I dunno.”

“Would she have told you? I know she enjoyed theater, got excited about theater. She saved playbills. She had a large collection of them.”

“He was supposed to take her that night and he killed her.” Tears sprang and spilled.

“But it wasn’t the first time they were supposed to go see a play together, was it?”

“She said he really liked theater, too. He’s just a liar.”

She said it fiercely, bitterly. “Just a liar.”

“Lieutenant, that’s enough.”

“Hold on. May sixteenth, Jo. They’d been seeing each other for about four weeks then. It was a musical about college students performed by college students. I bet she enjoyed it.”

“Shake It Up.”

“That’s right. Did she go with him?”

“It was like an anniversary. A month. She met him for dinner, then they went to the play. He gave her a little stuffed dog.”

Eve remembered the collection of animals. “What kind of dog?”

“A little brown and white one. If you rub its ears it says I love you. Mom.”

“Okay, baby, okay. That’s all, Lieutenant.”

“Jo, you helped me a lot. You helped Deena by talking to me, by remembering.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you did. Thank you.”

Jo turned her face into her mother’s breast. Ms. Jennings nodded at Eve, then clicked off.

Eve grabbed the evidence bag, strode out, swung by Peabody’s desk. “I may have something. Two playbills for a Columbia performance, one the best friend confirms Deena attended with the UNSUB, on May sixteen.”

“Two? She kept his.”

“Seems logical. I’m taking them to the lab now, personally. I’ve got more I want to input in the searches, but this unit won’t deal with it. I’m working from home after the lab.”

“Roarke’s up in EDD.”

“Shit. Well, I’ll see him at home later. I also need to go by the scene. He gave Deena one of the stuffed toys. Could get lucky there, too. I’ll run it, get that to the lab first thing in the morning.”