Vengeance in Death (In Death #6)(89)

She broke off when the room fax beeped. “He’s made contact, Commander. I’m reading it now. He’s giving instructions for the mark to expect a uniformed driver within fifteen minutes. He wants the mark to wait in the room. This indicates the hit is meant to go down here, as anticipated. Mark is requested to release the elevator when signaled by ‘link from the lobby. Three beeps. Transmission’s ended. He’ll be moving now.”

“A second team will stake out the Luxury Towers. I can give you two detectives from the Homicide Division and three officers.”

“In civilian attire, Commander. And I need at least one man from EDD to run a trace sweep.”

“You already have three there, Dallas. You’re straining the resources.”

She set her teeth, wishing desperately to be in two places at once. “I’ll send McNab to coordinate with the second team.”

“I’ll squeeze out a van with the necessary equipment. Keep this frequency open.” ‘ “Yes, sir. McNab.”

Insult radiated from him. “You’re kicking me now, when it’s going down?”

“I need you to find his. hole.”

“He’s coming here. We can scoop him up.”

“I need you to find his hole,” she repeated, “because God help us if he gets past us and crawls back in it. You find it, McNab, and you block it off. That’s an order, Detective.”

Steaming, he grabbed his coat. “Homicide figures all EDD’s good for is ghost work. Fine when you don’t have the answers, but when you do it’s back to the recorders.”

“I haven’t got time for temper tantrums. See that the other e-men here are fully briefed, then turn it over.” She brushed by him and into the parlor. “Everybody out of this room but Jackison. Take your positions. Weapons on low stun. We want him coherent.”

She lifted her eyebrows at Roarke. “Civilians, in the spare room.” She picked up one of the remote monitors. “You can watch.”

“I’m sure it would be entertaining. Lieutenant, you’ve just shorted yourself one e-man. I’ll take his position. Bend the rules a little,” he said before she could object. “It’ll do you more good than having me twiddle my thumbs.”

She had reason to know he was better with the equipment than the two men she had left. “First bedroom,” she decided. “You’re better off where I can keep an eye on you anyway. Jackison, stay clear of the door. When he rings in, wait for my signal to answer. Peabody, I want you at the door of the second bedroom. Use the security peep. Keep alert.”

She spoke into her communicator as she walked back into the control room. “Team A, in position. Team B. Team C. It’s going down here. Observe but do not approach or delay any uniformed drivers. Suspect will employ house or palm ‘ link on arrival and use penthouse elevator. Repeat, observe only. No one moves on him. We want him up here. When he’s boxed, you’ll get my signal and close in on this sector.”

“I love it when you talk cop,” Roarke murmured in her ear.

“No civilian chatter.” Eve planted herself in front of the monitors, scanning each to satisfy herself that all her troops were in position. “He’s coming,” she murmured. “Any minute now. Come on, you little prick, walk into my arms.”

She saw McNab exit the elevator into the lobby. Still steamed, she thought, noting his grim face and stiff posture. He was going to have to learn the value of teamwork. She watched him scan the lobby, and did so herself.

A droid walked a pair of silky, long-haired dogs across the colorful tiles. A woman in a severe black business suit sat on the circular bench surrounding the central fountain and snarled into a palm ‘link. A bellman guided an electric cart loaded with luggage toward the main doors. A woman came through them, leading a toy poodle on a silver leash. Both woman and dog were sleekly groomed, with matching silver bows decking their hair. Behind her came a domestic droid loaded down with shopping bags and boxes.

Rich tourist, Eve thought. Early Christmas shopping.

Then she saw him. He came in directly behind the droid, wearing the long dark coat, a chauffeur’s cap pulled low, sunshades concealing his eyes. “He’s in.” She barely breathed it. “Possible target entering through main doors. Male, five-ten, black coat, gray hat, sunshades. He’s carrying a black valise. Team leaders copy?”

“Copy that, Lieutenant. In sights. Suspect is taking palm ‘link from left coat pocket, moving left of fountain now.”

Then it all went wrong. The poodle started it. Eve saw that for herself. The little dog began to bark manically, broke from her mistress and streaked, yapping and snarling, toward the pair of Afghans.

A vicious little battle ensued, full of noise and fury. In her rush to save her poodle, the woman with the silver ribbons raced over the tiles and shoved past the businesswoman who’d risen to watch the commotion, nearly sending her into the fountain.

The businesswoman’s palm ‘link went flying and cracked directly between the surprised eyes of a cop in bellman’s gear. He went down like a felled tree.

There were screams and curses, a major crash when one of the participants rammed a table holding a duet of crystal vases. Three bellmen dashed to assist, the first to arrive receiving a slash of canine teeth for his trouble. One of the Afghans bounded clear and raced toward the main doors and escape.