Memory in Death (In Death 22)

Eve pointed so that Peabody would assume Trudy’s position. “Back to him. He picks up the sap, takes her down. Rug burns on the heels of her hand. Get down, Peabody.”

“Cops have no dignity.” Peabody went down on her knees, shot her hands out as if catching herself.

“And again, from above. One more to make sure. Blood. Had to get some blood on him. Now he’s got to figure it out, cover his tracks. Take the weapon, take the ‘link, take the camera. Record would be on the hard drive, if anyone decided to look. Make sure. Washcloth, towel, sock. Anything with her blood on it. Wrap everything up in a towel. Go out the window. Leave the window open. Logic says the killer came in that way.”

By the window now, Eve looked out. “Down and gone, no problem. Or…” She studied the distance to the window of the next room, the emergency platform. “Next room was empty. Maybe…”

She turned back. “Let’s have the sweepers take a look next door. I want those drains checked for blood. Bring them in now. I’ll go down and deal with the desk droid.”

He wasn’t happy about it. The room was occupied, and moving guests generally made them unhappy.

“They’ll be a lot unhappier if they’re in there while my crime scene team’s tearing up the room. You’ll be a lot unhappier if I go through the trouble of getting a warrant to shut down this establishment until my investigation is closed.”

That did the trick. While she waited, she checked in with Baxter.

“What’s the status?”

“They’re making up for lost time. I think we’ve walked five fricking miles. And it’s spitting some wet snow.”

“So button up. What are they doing?”

“Shopping mostly. Just bought a little tree after looking at all the little trees in the borough of Manhattan. They’re talking about heading back, thank the tiny baby Jesus. If anyone’s tailing them but me and my faithful sidekick, I’m a monkey.”

“Stick with them.”

“Like glue.”

In Midtown, Baxter shoved his communicator back in his coat pocket. On his earpiece he heard Zana talk about lunch. Should they buy some dogs and stay out a while longer? Or go drop off their things, have lunch at the hotel?

“Hotel,” he mumbled. “Go to the hotel. The one with a nice warm coffee shop across the street.”

Trueheart shrugged. “It’s nice being out. Being able to see all the decorations. The snow just adds.”

“You kill me, kid. It’s thirty degrees, windy, and this snow is more like sleet. The sidewalks are jammed, and we’re walking the soles of our shoes thin. Shit. Damn it. They’re going for the dogs.”

“And glide-cart coffee.” Now Trueheart shook his head. “They’ll be sorry.”

“And now she’s window-shopping. Typical female. He’s got to haul the bags, buy the dogs, juggle it all so she can sigh over a bunch of sparklers they’ll never be able to afford.”

“If they’re blackmailers they can.”

Baxter gave Trueheart a look of pride and approval. “Now that’s the kind of cynicism I like to hear. Take the point, move on the cart once he’s got his dogs. Order up a couple. It’s crowded. Hard to keep a visual going. I’ll hang back in case she talks him into going in the store.”

Baxter eased right, toward the buildings, and caught a glimpse of Zana looking over her shoulder, smiling as Bobby came over, balancing food and packages.

“I’m sorry, honey!” She laughed, took one of the bags, one of the dogs. “I shouldn’t have left you with all that. I just wanted a peek.”

“You want to go in ?”

She laughed again. “I can hear the pain in your voice. No, I just wanted to look. I wish I’d thought to wear a hat, though. My ears are cold.”

“We can go back, or we can buy a hat.”

She beamed at him. “I’d really like to stay out just a little while more. There’s a place across the street.”

“The one we walked by to get to this side of the street?”

“I know, I know,” she said with a giggle. “But they had hats and scarves. On sale. You could use a hat, too, honey. Maybe a nice warm scarf. And I just can’t face that hotel room again right now, Bobby. I feel like I’ve been let out of prison or something.”