Survivor In Death (In Death #20)(59)

Ophelia sent Peabody a scowl. “What she mean salient?”

“Ophelia, two cops are dead.” The light, friendly tone turned cold as Pluto. “You heard about that. If you're using that, if you're playing me with that so you can get your license clear, I will personally see that it's not only lifted, but that you're hounded by the cops to the extent you won't be able to give away blow jobs for old times' sake.”

“No need to get pissy.” Ophelia's large lips seemed to gain weight with a pout. “Just trying to help us both outtava jam.”

“Then you tell me what you know, and if it helps, you walk out.”

“With a license?”

“With a license.”

“Phat. So, here's what. I'm doing the stroll on Ninety-Two. My usual area of business is downtown, but with my current situation, I changed. And you get better tricks Upper West. That time of day, lots of nine-to-fives heading home after a quick drink. I give them a bj to go with it, maybe a fast bang.”

“On the street.”

“Well... See, I got an arrangement with a guy has a deli with a back room. He takes a cut, and I got some privacy for my business.”

“Okay. Keep going.”

Obviously cheered by the fact she wasn't going to get slapped for another violation, Ophelia beamed. “So I'm starting the stroll. Got one quickie in, so I'm feeling pretty good. Nice night out, people walking around. Lots of potentials, you know? And I see these two. Mmmmmmm. Big, handsome guys. Look rough, look tough. Think maybe I can get me a twofer. I sway on up to them, leading with the champs here.” She laid her hands on her br**sts, gave them a squeeze. “And I say, how about you gentlemen and me have ourselves a party. Offer them a special rate. I'm standing in front of them. You gotta slow a john down, show off the merchandise, you gonna have a shot. And this one looks at me, hard. But not like he's thinking about doing me, but like he's thinking about kicking my sweet ass down and giving it a stomp. You been in the life long as I have, you know that look. They don't say nothing, just part ways and walk by on either side of me. That's when I smelled it.”

“Smelled what.”

“Blood. Fresh. So you best believe while they're walking that way, I'm walking quick, fast, and in a hurry in the other. It's 'cause I'm shaken up some that I end up offering to party with a cop in soft clothes, and he asks to see my license. And I end up in the tank where I hear talk about two cops getting dead on Ninety-second. And I'm saying how I have information, but--”

“Let's go back a minute. Did you see blood on these men?”

“No, smelled it.”

“How did you know it was blood?”

“Well, shit, you ever smelled it? Especially when it's fresh. You can almost taste it, like you sucked on an old credit. My granddaddy's got a little farm down in Kentucky. Raises pigs. I did some time there as a kid--hog slaughtering time. I know what blood smells like. And those guys had been bloody, you can take that to the bank.”

Eve felt that fizz in her own blood, but kept her tone even. “What did they look like?”

“Big, built. White boys. Had to look up at them, but I don't have much height, even in my work shoes. But they looked big 'cause they were solid, you know?”

“Handsome, you said.”

“Yeah, good lookers, what I could see. Wearing sun shades and caps. I didn't see the eyes, but when they send that look at you, you don't have to. Sorta looked alike, I guess, but they were white boys and sometimes they just do.”

“What were they wearing?”

“Dark.” She lifted a shoulder. “Didn't pay much attention, but they looked like good stuff--quality--so I figured they had fee and tip on them. Had bags, too, on long straps.” She held her hands about a foot apart. '“Bout that big. Now I'm thinking, one of the bags bumped me when they walked by. Felt solid, and that's when I smelled the blood.”

“Which way were they walking, west or east?”

“West, heading on over toward Broadway. One of 'em had a hitch in his stride.”

“Meaning?”

“Gimpy. Limping some. Like his leg was paining him or his shoes didn't fit right.”

Got one of them, Preston, Eve thought. Gave them a little pain. “Hair color, distinguishing marks, anything else?”

“I don't know.”

Eve drew herself back. If she pushed too hard, the woman could start making things up, just to fill in the blanks. “Do you think you'd recognize them if you saw them again?”

“Might.”

“I'd like you to work with a police artist.”

“No shit. Never did that before. I must've given you good stuff.”

“Maybe. Good enough I'll fix your license.”

“You're stand-up. I don't do girls as a rule, but you want a bang sometime, I'll give you a freebie.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Meanwhile, I need you to stay here while I arrange for an artist.”

“I don't gotta go back to the tank?”

“No.” As she rose, Eve decided she could do one better. “There hasn't yet been a reward posted, but there will be by morning. There's a standard reward in cases of cop killing. If this information you've given us leads to an arrest, I'll see that you get it.”