Taken in Death (In Death #37.5)(7)

“They’ll be notified.” She had another weapon there, in the form of her commander. Once again she pulled out her ’link and contacted one of her detectives.

“Jenkinson. I need you and Reineke on protection detail.” She briefed him as succinctly as she had Roarke, gave him the location and the destination. “Bring in EDD to set up the tap, and move it.”

As she ended transmission, she turned back to Peabody. “Check in with the uniforms. See if we’re having any luck with the canvass.” And once again, she used the ’link, went through an admin, and quickly to Commander Whitney.

“Sir—”

“I’ve seen the alert, have the bare bones.”

Saved time, she thought. “I’m having the parents moved to the Belmont with Jenkinson and Reineke on first shift. I’m going to order a tap on their electronics, considering the possibility of contact or ransom demand, though I believe both are low. BOLOs have been issued for the suspect and the vehicle she was driving—which belonged to the parents, the MacDermits, and was kept in a private garage. I’ve asked Dr. Mira to contact the suspect’s medicals in Sweden, and I enlisted the aid of a civilian consultant. Roarke knows the Prime Minister over there, and may help cut through some of the international red tape to information.”

“I’ll arrange for the tap,” he told her. “I expect to be contacted by the feds at any moment.”

“Yes, sir. I fully intended to contact the FBI. However, as the suspect may have entered the country illegally, or, in fact, may be wanted in Sweden, I considered this may be an international incident, with international repercussions. With that consideration I’m unsure whether to have a conversation with the FBI or the HSO or Global.”

Whitney’s broad, dark face remained impassive, but she saw the acknowledgment in his eyes. “That is a consideration. The politics are complicated at this point. It may be best for me to contact the HSO, let the federal agencies hash out their food chain. I will, at this point, request Agent Teasdale out of HSO assist, if such assistance is warranted.”

“Thank you, sir. I have the name of a police contact involved in the investigation, in Sweden, of the suspect’s father’s murder. A CPS contact, and a shrink as well.”

“Give me what you have, and we’ll deal with the international red tape.”

“Thank you, sir.” She listed the names. “I’ll continue the investigation as primary until further orders.”

She caught Peabody’s smirk as she pocketed her ’link. “What?”

“You’re riding the smart bus today. Angling for Teasdale on the federal side because we’ve worked with her before. We know she’s solid, doesn’t hot dog.”

“And isn’t an ass**le,” Eve finished. “Right now, it’s still all NYPSD.”

“Nothing on the canvass yet,” Peabody reported.

“Nothing more to do here now, and no time to waste. We’ll go check out the garage, see how she got in.”

“Those kids have to be scared,” Peabody began as they walked out to Eve’s vehicle. “I know you said ransom’s unlikely, but what else does she want them for? Because you’re right. If she wanted to kill them or mess them up, she’d have done it in the house, left them like the nanny for her sister to find.”

“Then the torture’s over. Dead’s dead, and ends it. Not knowing’s worse than knowing. But that doesn’t mean she won’t hurt them.”

“Kill them, dispose of the bodies.”

Eve shook her head as she drove. “I don’t know, but I can’t see why she’d have packed stuff for them if she wanted to end them right away. How did she find the sister? How long has she known where Tosha lives, about the kids? When did she get out of the institution and how? Once we get those answers we might have a better idea what she’s planning.”

She pulled up at the garage, a three-level building. Two for vehicles, from the looks of it, she thought, and top-level apartments, maybe offices.

“You’ve got the name Tosha gave us for the owner?”

“Bing Francis.”

“Contact him.” Eve studied the setup. Upscale security cams, swipe bar, scanner.

She held her badge to the scanner, watched the red beam play over it.

Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Identification verified. Please place warrant for entry on scanner.

“I don’t have one. This is a police investigation. I need to know how an individual posing as Tosha MacDermit, registered owner of the 2059 Class-A Orbit Sedan, New York license number Tango, Echo, Victor, zero, six, one, gained entry to these premises and accessed said vehicle.”

I am unable to process this information.

“I bet. Listen—”

Even as she geared up for a pissing match with the computer, Peabody signaled. “The owner’s coming down. He lives upstairs.”

“Good enough. Disappointing,” she admitted, sneering at the scanner. “But good enough.”

He came around the corner of the building, a big man, heavy in the belly and with a wide, Irish face, keen hazel eyes.

“Bing Francis,” he said. “You just caught me. I was about to head out. What can I do you for?”

“I need access to the garage.”