Portrait in Death (In Death #16)(105)

"Communicators on," she continued. "Weapons low stun. You two take the sidewalk across the street. Spread out. You see anybody at any of the target windows, I want a heads-up. Anybody fitting profile enters or exits the building while I'm inside, I want to know about it. Let's pin him down."

She walked to the elevators, scooping up a fake potted fern on the way.

"I didn't know you liked houseplants, Dallas."

"Home decorating is always on my mind. He sees my face through his security peep, he's not going to open the door. He knows me."

"Oh, camouflage."

"Stay out of the line of sight," she ordered Peabody. "We need him to open the door, establish he's in there, get a look at his face. Record on."

"So if he panics, slams the door again, we've got probable cause and a face."

"And he's bolted in until we get a warrant. Nobody dies tonight," she stated as she stepped out on twelve.

She hitched the fern up, looking through the fronds as she approached the apartment. It had a security peep, full screen, a palm plate, and voice box.

Taking no chances, are you, she thought. You're a careful bastard. Don't want some casual burglar lifting your locks and finding your goodies.

She rang the bell, waited.

The red locked light stayed steady.

She rang again. "Delivery for 1208," she called out.

Hearing the door behind her open, Eve shifted her weight and put her free hand on her weapon.

A young woman stepped out of 1207, eyes widening when she spotted Peabody's uniform. "Is there some sort of trouble? Is anything wrong? Is Gerry okay?"

"Gerald Stevenson." Eve set the fern down. "Does he live here?"

"Sure. Haven't seen him for, I don't know, a few days anyway. But that's his place. Who are you?"

"Dallas. NYPSD." She took out her badge. "So, Gerry's not home."

"No. Like I said, I haven't seen him for a while. He's probably out on assignment."

"Assignment."

"Yeah, you know, taking pictures."

Eve felt the quick leap in her blood. "He's a photographer."

"Image artist. That's what he calls it. He's good, too. He took some of my husband and me last year. Of course, he hasn't been doing much work since his mother died. What's this about, anyway?"

"When his mother died," Eve prompted. "What happened?"

"What you'd expect. He fell apart. They were really close. He took care of her through the whole thing, and believe me, some of it had to be horrible. She just died by inches. Mark and I did what we could, but really, what can you do? Has something happened to Gerry? God, has he been in an accident?"

"Not that I know of. Mrs?"

"Ms. Ms. Fryburn. Jessie. Listen, I've knocked a couple times in the last week, and I've tried to reach him on his 'link, just to check. He seemed better lately, a lot better, and said he was working pretty steady. If something's happened, I'd like to help. He's a nice guy, and Ms. Stevenson, well, she was a jewel. One in a million."

"You might be able to help. Can we come inside, talk to you?"

"I..." She glanced at the time on a slim silver wrist unit. "Yes. Sure. I just have to call in, reschedule a few meetings." She looked at Eve again, at Peabody, then at the fern Eve sat beside the door. And began to put some of it together. "Is Gerry in trouble?"

"Yes. Yes, he's in trouble."

***

It took more time than Eve wanted to spend, but she wanted Jessie Fryburn's cooperation. It took precious time to batter back the woman's instinctive defense of Gerald Stevenson. Her refusal to believe he could be involved in anything illegal, much less murderous.

She dug in on it until Eve wanted to take her loyal spine and twist it into a pretzel.

"If, as you continue to insist, Gerry's innocent, it'll only be to his benefit for me to find him and clear all this up." I'm just about through screwing around with you in any polite manner, Eve thought.

"Oh, like an innocent man isn't ever arrested and dragged through the mud until his life is ruined." Jessie was so focused on the heat of her own outrage, she missed the warning flare of Eve's. "You're just doing your job, I understand that perfectly well, but it is a job. And people make mistakes on the job every day."

"You're right. And it would probably be a mistake for me to slap restraints on you right now, haul your ass down to Central, and into lockup for impeding an investigation, for obstruction of justice, for just being a complete pain in the ass. But you know what?" She rose and tugged her restraints off her belt. "People make mistakes on the job every day."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Peabody?"

"She would dare, Ms. Fryburn. She would absolutely dare. And lockup isn't very pleasant."

A flush from insult and temper stained Jessie's cheeks. "I'm calling my lawyer. I'm not saying another word until I do. If she advises me to talk to you, fine. Otherwise." She lifted her chin so that Eve had to resist taking the invitation to rap it with her fist. "You can do your worst."

"She really doesn't understand just how good your worst is. Or how bad-depending on your point of view." Peabody said this out of the corner of her mouth as Jessie stalked to a 'link.