Forgotten in Death(23)

“This job? It could make us. We didn’t know about the partners until we bid, but we wouldn’t have backed out anyway. The way we heard it, Bardov’s sort of silent partners, and consultants. Singer’s in charge of the build. It takes a lot of scratch for a build like this. Most are going to need partners, for the scratch.”

“All right.”

Chloe shifted. “Okay, so we’re up there doing some survey work, and we see a couple of Bardov guys doing a walk-around. This is a few weeks ago, and we saw them by the buildings northwest of the tower. Demo’s going on, right, and me and Deke just came back on-site to check some measurements for our design. And the one guy—Tovinski—he’s an engineer. We don’t get why he’s there because we know the engineers on the job, and that’s really how we copped to Bardov being more in it than we thought. We dealt with this guy on the job we did for Bardov. He’s a corner cutter for sure.”

“In what way?”

“He knocks down the quality of the supplies and materials. Right on the edge of it, you know? You’re doing a quality job, and you bid fair, then he’s pulling down the quality to save more money. We argued it—’cause the cost was in the damn bid, right?—but he went over us. Didn’t show on the invoice, get it? But we know what we’re working with.”

“You’re saying this Tovinski padded invoices.”

“I’m saying Deke and I know what we’re working with, and on the Bardov job we did, what we were working with wasn’t what was on the order sheet. It was cheaper grade, down the line.”

“Okay.”

“And we saw him with a couple of inspectors. Maybe we didn’t see him grease the palms, but we sure didn’t have any trouble passing any site inspections. And we should have.”

Now she shrugged. “It happens, right? The way it is sometimes, but it’s not how me and my brother work. And we saw a couple of the Bardov guys on the Singer job—I don’t know the names except Tovinski—get into it with a couple of the other subs. Not punch-outs, but it looked close.”

“And you think Bardov’s company cuts and greases?”

“Well, Lorna—the landscaper and the I-told-you-so pal—said that’s what she heard on the job. How they had ties to the Russian mob.”

After blowing out a long breath, Chloe took a hit from her water bottle again.

“I don’t know from that, but she said she heard it. It could be bullshit. It could all be bullshit, but that nice lady’s dead, and somebody did it.”

“Do the Bardov people have access—codes and swipes?”

“I don’t know. They shouldn’t, not at this point in the project anyway, but we’re just subcontractors. Just cogs in the wheel, right?”

“Have you heard anything about substandard materials on this job?”

“Not a peep on that. And not on the other two jobs we worked for Singer. But we haven’t started our work yet, other than prep, design, ordering. And I only saw Tovinski on-site those two times. We’re not on-site much right now, so maybe he’s there more.”

“Got a first name on Tovinski?”

“No, sorry. We just called him Ivan. He’s got the accent and everything.”

“Have you worked with Bryce Babbott?”

“Quality,” Chloe said instantly. “And…” She lifted those strong shoulders, gave them a wiggle. “Frosty supreme. And with Angelica Roost, solid, in my opinion. And Mr. Singer—he takes an interest, knows his ass from his elbow. Not J. B. Singer. We haven’t met the old man. We saw the grandmother—she came on-site on both our other jobs a couple of times. Got eyes like a hawk. A little bit scary, if I’m honest, but she gave the work a nod, so we got the second job. Now this one.”

“Okay. This is good information. When’s your brother due back?”

“A week from Monday. Well, Sunday night, but Monday morning at work.”

“We’d like to talk to him. Just see if he remembers anything more than you have.”

“Sure. I’ll make sure he tags you. I guess you don’t know how long we’ll be shut down.”

“Not yet, no.”

“I know you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do for the lady who got killed. It’s just we put almost all our eggs in this Hudson Yards basket. Biggest job we ever bid on. It’s dumping some stress right now.”

“As soon as we clear it, we’ll let Mr. Singer know. Thanks for coming in.”

“I’m all done? You said it wouldn’t be too bad,” she said to Peabody. “It wasn’t.” She rose. “Um, you bring murderers and like that in this room?”

“It’s a room for interviewing, both suspects and witnesses.”

“I can kind of feel them. The bad ones. I’m like half-assed a sensitive. I mostly block it because it creeps me out. But I can sorta feel them.”

She shuddered once. “I sure wouldn’t want your job.”

When Peabody led Chloe out, Eve sat a moment, considering.

Corner cutting, palm greasing. Why not some high-dollar pilfering? She couldn’t see how anyone had legitimate business on the site in the middle of the damn night. And being there led to murder.

Tovinski looked like a very good place to start.