Apprentice in Death (In Death #43)(67)

“Not if you’ve got something else.

“Laser cutter. She’ll go through those interior walls like shit through a goose. Not as noisy as the other options, but she hums. If he hears it, he’ll know what it is.”

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t hear it.”

“I can go in, create an entry.”

“I need you out here, Lowenbaum. The chances of me taking out a trained sniper most likely in body armor with my sidearm? Low. We’re the distraction, and believe me, we’re going to duck and cover when necessary. I need you to take him down—that’s on you. We’ll get him to move—you tell me when and where—and we’ll make it happen so you can take him down.”

“You can count on that. Do either of you know how to work a laser cutter?”

“I do, yes.” Roarke took it, studied it. “And a fine one it is,” he added as he put inside the satchel.

“I’m going to call Trueheart and Baxter in. Make sure everyone’s aware there are civilians in the attached house. We’ll get them to a secured area, but stay aware.”

She started to walk again. “Baxter, Trueheart, back to post. Roarke and I are heading for the corner of Third and Eighteenth, about to move into suspect’s eyeline.”

“In that case.” Roarke wrapped an arm around her, glued her to his side. “Could we look less concerned about murderers?”

When they stopped at the corner, she tugged him down to her for a kiss, studied the target location, and murmured against his mouth, “He’s scanning the street, so he’s seen us. But he hasn’t moved to cover the back. Might have some sort of early warning system set up for that.”

She snuggled in against him as they crossed at the light. “We’re going straight to the neighbors, like we’re expected.”

“Jan Maguire, Philippe Constant. I looked them up while you were changing coats.”

“Jan and Phil, got it. Do you want to tell me how come you know how to work a laser cutter?”

He grinned down at her. “Not at this time.”

She grinned back, let out a laugh she hoped carried. “Thank God we’re here. I’m freezing! We’re springing for a cab on the way home.”

“Let’s see how it goes.”

They walked up the steps and, with their backs to the target, pressed the buzzer.





13


Roarke shifted his body to block any possible view from the adjoining duplex when Eve palmed her badge.

“First trick is to get them to open the door, fast. After that, just move in. We’ll deal with the rest inside.”

She didn’t need a trick, as the door opened.

The man, mid-thirties, wearing a gray Mets sweatshirt and jeans with holes in the knees, frowned at the badge.

“What?”

“Hey, Philippe!” With a blast of a smile, Eve moved forward. Roarke closed the door at their backs.

“Wait just a—”

“There’s trouble next door. I’m Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD, and this is my consultant. I need you to call Jan—just call her from wherever she is.”

“But I want to know—”

“Philippe,” Roarke said in a smooth, easy tone. “The quicker you follow the lieutenant’s instructions, the quicker we’ll explain. How’s your soundproofing?”

“Our—well, we’re working on it. Why—”

“I see you’re doing some renovations,” Roarke continued in that same conversational tone, then glanced at Eve. “Handy.”

“Yeah, should be. Call her, get her down here.” As she spoke, Eve stripped off the pink coat because it made her feel like an idiot, tossed it on a seriously old-fashioned hall rack someone had painted bright blue.

“Let me see that badge again.”

Eve held it closer, waited while he studied it, and her. And, still watching her, he shouted out, “Jan! Come on down here.”

“Phil, I’m in the middle of—”

“Come on, Jan.”

Moments later a tall woman in paint-splattered overalls, blond hair bundled up under a Yankees cap appeared. A mop head of white scurried down after her, yipping all the way. “I was just putting another coat of— Oh, sorry. I didn’t know there was anyone here.”

“They’re the cops.”

“The—”

Jan stopped when Eve put a finger to her lips, then scooped up what had to be a dog, continued down the stairs.

“Let’s take this back there.” Eve gestured. “Have you got a music system? How about you put on some music, like you would when friends come over. There’s trouble next door,” she repeated. “You share a wall, and your soundproofing’s iffy. Put on some music, we’ll go in the back, and I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

As the dog wiggled to get down, Jan groped for Philippe’s hand. “Behave, Lucy! I told you something was off with the new people, Phil. What did they— Okay.” She shook her head, sucked in some air. “Let’s go back to the lounge. You won’t believe how great it looks now.”

Eve gave her a nod of approval. “Can’t wait to see it.”

“Put on some tunes, Phil, and let’s crack that wine. I don’t know how much they can hear over there,” Jan said quietly as they headed back, past dingy walls, spaces where dingy walls had obviously been torn down. “We can sort of hear them—their screen noises, and on the third floor some thumping around. That’s where our workshop is, so we spend a lot of time up there.”