Memory in Death (In Death #22)(73)

"They will."

Eve took a second-level street slot at the West Side Hotel. "How could there be anything left in the city to buy?" She clambered down, scowling at the masses of people. "What more could they possibly want?"

"Speaking for myself, I want lots and lots. Piles of boxes with big shiny bows. And if McNab didn't spring for something shiny, I'll have to hurt him. Maybe we'll get that snow." She sniffed the air like a hound. "Smells like it."

"How can you smell anything in this city but city?"

"I got a prime nose. I can scent soy dogs grilling. And there they are, down the block. I'm sort of going to miss being here for Christmas. I mean, it's exciting—scary, too—going to Scotland, but it's not New York."

Inside, the same droid worked the desk. "Hey!" He signaled. "When you gonna unseal the room?"

"When justice is served."

"Manager's busting me on it. We got reservations. Full house next week for New Year's Eve."

"He's got a problem with my crime scene, tell him to contact me. I'll tell him what he can do for New Year's."

She checked her homer on the way up. "They're moving. Baxter?" she said into the communicator. "They're coming out."

"We've got them. Got audio. They're talking about heading over to Fifth, window shopping. Looking for a tabletop tree for the room."

"I can hear them. I'm tuning down the audio. Tag me if there's anything I should know."

"They're stepping out. My youthful companion and I will be taking a stroll. And we're out."

Eve pocketed her communicator, took out her master to break the seal. A woman opened the door across the hall a crack.

"Are you the police?"

"Yes, ma'am." Eve drew out her badge.

"Somebody said a woman was killed in that room, just a few days ago."

"There was an incident. There's no reason for you to be concerned."

"Easy for you to say. Larry! Larry, I told you there was a murder. The cops are right here." She poked her head back out. "He wants to get his vid cam. Get something we can show the kids tomorrow."

Larry, busting with smiles as he pushed the door open, led with the camera. "Hi! You think maybe you could put your hand on your weapon, maybe hold up your badge. Look tough. The kids're going to love it."

"Now's not really a good time, Larry."

"It'll only take a minute. You going in? Great! I can just get a quick shot of the inside. Is there still blood?"

"What, are you twelve? Put that thing down, go back in your room before I arrest you for being dirt stupid."

"Great! Great! Keep going."

"Jesus Christ, where do people come from? What dark hole vomits them out into my face? Peabody."

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to go back inside now. This is a police investigation." She lowered her voice as she moved to block his view. "You don't want to tick her off. Trust me."

"Can you say your name? Like this is Officer Smith, ordering you to cease and desist."

"It's detective, and, sir, you will have to cease and desist before—"

Eve simply stepped forward, wrenched the little camera out of his hand.

"Hey!"

"If you don't want me to drop it, and have it somehow end up under my boot, you're going to go back inside."

"Larry, give it a rest." The woman elbowed him back. "I'll take it."

"I got some good stuff on there," Larry said as his wife nudged him back inside. "You can't buy this kind of stuff." The door finally shut after him.

Eve glanced back. She knew damn well Larry had that damn camera up to the security peep. She broke the seal on room 415, jerked a thumb at Peabody. She kept the door open just enough for her partner to squeeze through, then followed. Closed it. Locked it.

"Asshole." Eve scanned the room, shook off the incident in the hall. "She comes in Friday, worked up. Got herself a new plan. Following a pattern we've established. Doesn't mind hurting herself or her property to pin it on someone else. Complicate their lives. Pay them back. She's laid in some supplies. We'll check some of the markets. Harder to pin that down, though. But she's going to have some supplies. The wine, soup, easy food."

"She's already planning how to take care of herself once she's hurt. Blockers, then," Peabody added. "Some soothers."

"If she didn't travel with enough, yeah. We'll check that, too. Bet she has a drink first. Yeah. A big gulp of wine maybe. Maybe some solid food. Thinking, working it out."

Eve walked the room as she imagined it. "Does she call her killer? I don't know, I don't know. Why?

This is her deal. She's in charge. And she's hot. She's plenty steamed."

"Have to be gritting down to do that to herself."

"She thinks how it's going to play out. How it's going to make Roarke scramble. Thinks he can brush her off? Well, she'll show him. Rips the socks apart. Pulls off the tag, balls it up, tosses it and pulls the pair apart. Tosses the spare, floor, dresser. Fills the one with the credits. Checks the weight. Maybe takes a blocker first, gets ahead of the pain."