Treachery in Death (In Death #32)(38)

“And it seems a little too good to be luck. If you didn’t know what you were doing, you’d use a sap, or a bat. Either would do more damage.”

“There wasn’t any indication the vic had been in a fight.”

“Exactly.” When the elevator stopped, more cops lumbered on, Eve got off. “Blow from behind—a strong and heavy one, and pretty precise. The other scrapes and bruises are minor,” she added as she jumped on a glide. “Might have happened when the vic was dumped in the tub, might have happened when the vic seized during the OD. If he suffered this blow, if it knocked him out or even dazed him, it would give the killer—should there be one—time to inject the lethal dose. Vic’s flying now, helpless. Dump him in the tub, set up the rest of the works. Now it looks like the vic was hallucinating, as you would in the early stages of Fuck Me Up, and decided to take a nice bath.”

“Why not leave him on the mattress?”

“The tub’s more humiliating, and that says the vic and killer were previously acquainted. It’s a kind of flourish,” Eve decided, “and flourishes are always a mistake in murder.”

She got off the glide, made the turn to take the next. And spotted Webster strolling toward her. “Goddamn it,” she said under her breath.

“Lieutenant, Detective. How’s it going?”

“Well enough, up until now.”

“Always pleasant. We’re heading in the same direction.” He stepped on the glide with her.

She channeled her irritation. “If the rat squad’s going to chew at Homicide, I expect to be informed.”

“Not Homicide, so relax.” But he stepped off the glide with her.

“For Christ’s sake, Webster,” she said under her breath.

“Relax,” he said again, in the same undertone. “I’ve got some business on this level, then a meet with the commander. I heard you took some time off recently.”

She stopped at Vending. “It’s nice IAB’s got time to chat.”

“As much as murder cops do. Keep it clean, Dallas.” He started to back up, then his face changed as he stared down the corridor. For a moment he looked . . . reverent, Eve thought.

And he said—reverently, “Oh, yeah.”

She followed his direction and spotted Darcia Angelo. She wore a summer dress, a breezy one covered with hot pink flowers that showed strong golden shoulders and a lot of smooth skin. Her mass of black hair tumbled to those golden shoulders, curling wildly around her face. Dark, sultry eyes warmed when she saw Eve, and the wide, bottom-heavy mouth curved in a smile.

Eve supposed it was the high, needle-thin heels adding to the already statuesque figure that caused the hips to sway as if to an internal rhythm.

Or maybe not.

“Dallas! It’s so good to see you again. And Peabody—Detective Peabody since I saw you last. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I didn’t know you were on planet, much less in the city, Chief Angelo.”

“A little holiday, a little business.” She turned that smile, those eyes onto Webster, who simply stood staring as if he’d just witnessed a miracle. “Hello.”

“Yeah, Chief Angelo, Olympus PD; Lieutenant Webster, IAB,” Eve supplied.

“Internal Affairs?” Darcia offered a hand. “Are there many?”

“Enough to keep us busy. Is this your first time in New York?”

“The first with any vacation time. I had lunch with your husband,” she told Eve. “And since I was downtown, I couldn’t resist coming in and seeing how things are done here. It’s an impressive facility, from what I’ve seen.”

A couple of cops perp-walked a skinny, struggling man down the corridor.

“I was just trying to get his attention!” the man protested at the top of his lungs. “If he’da listened, I wouldn’ta had to bash him.”

“And full of such interesting people,” Darcia added.

“Yeah, we’re loaded. My office is down this way,” Eve began.

“Yo, LT!” Jacobson hailed her from the bullpen doorway. “Got a minute?”

She signaled an affirmative. “I’ll show you around,” she told Darcia.

“I’d love it. Go ahead and speak to your man. I’m just going to get something cold to drink. It’s awfully hot out there. I’ll be right along.”

“Good enough. Peabody, make that tag. I want that data asap.”

“Yes, sir. Nice seeing you, Chief. Enjoy New York.”

“I intend to.” Darcia gave her hair a little toss when Eve and Peabody walked away, then turned to study the offerings. “Hmmm.”

“Buy you a drink?” Webster offered, and she smiled.

“Yes, please.”

“So, Chief Angelo ...”

“Darcia. I’m off duty.”

“Darcia. I should’ve known the name would suit. What’ll you have?”

“Surprise me.”

In the bullpen Eve listened as Jacobson ran through the angles he’d come up with through juggling. She did some juggling of her own, keeping the balls of murder, Renee, Darcia Angelo, and now Jacobson’s brainstorm in the air.

When she’d finished with Jacobson, she was half inclined to go out and see if Darcia had gotten lost on the short walk to Homicide.