Kindred in Death (In Death #29)(93)

“You’re not in any trouble.” The power female took on a faint maternal tone. “And you won’t be penalized for the time out of the retreat. This is Lieutenant Dallas, with the NYPSD. She hopes you can help her.”

“Help?”

“Yes. Would you like me to step away, Lieutenant?”

“It’s not necessary. You work at Sports Center.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m a year-round student, and I work there to help with living expenses. I’ve worked there for over a year now.”

“You were working there on March thirty-first.”

“Ah. I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“You sold several items to this man.” Eve drew out the sketch. “Do you remember him?”

“I’m not sure. Exactly. It’s over two months ago, and we’re a really popular store. It can get really busy.”

“I have a list of what he bought. It might help you remember.” Eve started down the list, saw Fiona blink when she got to the shoes. “You remember?”

“I do. It was a really big sale, and the shoes are really high. I remember because I told him they were going on sale, for one day, in just another week. Ten percent, and that’s a lot when they go for three and a half bills, you know? But he wanted them right then. He looked a little different from this picture. That’s why I didn’t recognize him right away.”

“How so?”

“His hair was a lot longer, and wavy. He had mag hair. He was really cute. I guess I flirted with him a little, the way you do, asked if he lived on campus, and what his major was. I think he said he was living off campus. He was nice, but he didn’t flirt back, so I figured he was seeing someone or I didn’t push the buzzer for him. I made some joke about him hitting the jackpot or something because he was buying so much. I remember he smiled, because, wow, killer smile. And he said—because I thought it was funny—clothes make the man. It seemed like a weird thing to say when he’s buying sweatshirts and that kind of thing. I bagged it all up, and he left.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, Fiona. Thanks.”

“Did he do something illegal?”

“We’re interested in talking to him. If you do see him, do me a favor. Don’t approach him, and contact me.” Eve handed her a card.

“Sure. Should I go back to the retreat now?”

“Yes,” Peach told her. “Straight back.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did that help?” Peach asked as Fiona hurried off.

“It confirms some information, continues to establish pattern, and tells me he’s got smug going up against careful, and sometimes smug wins. Yeah, that’s helpful. As you’ve been. Thank you.”

“I’m happy I could help, and I hope the media reports, very soon, that you’ve arrested this man.”

“So do I.”

When they reached the car, Roarke asked, “What next?”

“I need to go back over the list of names and data of those connected with the Irene Schultz arrest. I need to talk to them, all of them, and try to figure out his next target.”

“They don’t all live in New York.”

“No.” She got into the car. “But he’s got, apparently, an endless supply of IDs, and credit to go with them. Maybe his next target’s in New York, maybe not. I need to interview all the connections to possible targets to try to work it out.”

“Not all the connections live in New York either, or in the city. You could, of course, shuttle around to and from, or conduct the interviews via ’link.”

“I’d rather a face-to-face, but it’s not practical, so most of it will have to be by ’link. The problem is people expand. They get married and/or have kids. The kids do the same. Or they have sibs who do it. In twenty-odd years, you’ve got a horde spiraling out of one person.”

“People and their propensity for progeny.” Amused at her, Roarke shook his head. “What can be done?”

“What I’d like to do is get them all into Central, take them one at a time, then if necessary, pool them altogether, to see if one person’s answers jogs something salient from another.”

“I can arrange that.”

She slanted him a bland look as he drove them home. “What? You’ll have everyone transported to Central—from wherever they happen to be? Not only impractical, but plenty of them won’t go for it. Another problem with people is they have lives, and can get fussy when asked to put them on hold to aid in a police investigation they may or may not believe really involves them.”

“There’s transporting,” he said, “and there’s transporting.”

“Well, sure, your transports are all slick and shiny, but—”

“Eve, while I often have to travel for business, or have someone brought in, how much more often do I conduct business halfway around the world, even off planet, without leaving New York?”

“Yeah, but you’ve got . . .” She had a sudden memory of walking into his office unannounced while he conducted a meeting. A holographic meeting. “It could work,” she considered. “We don’t use holo for interviews generally because if you’re dealing with a suspect, even witnesses in some cases, the defense will try to get anything gathered by that method tossed. It’s tricky because it can be manipulated. You want to make it solid, you need a confession or hard evidence face-to-face, on record. But this . . .”