Visions in Death (In Death 19)
Page 16
“That’s too damn bad. Fibers?”
“A few, under her nails, on her person. She didn’t go down easy. They’re off to the lab, but I’d make them as cloth, most are likely from her own clothes. Some are probably from his shirt as there’s some sealant on them, too.”
Eve straightened, pulled off the goggles. “You see anything like this before?”
“From my lofty height, Dallas, you see every damn thing. But this precisely, no. You?”
“Not all the elements together.”
But her gut told her she’d see them again.
“She’s clean, Dallas. Sanchez. No arrests, no criminal.” Peabody studied the readout as Eve drove uptown. “You want to hear the deal?”
“The highlights.”
“DOB, February 3, 2026, Madison, Wisconsin. Brrr. Both parents living, in Cancun. That’s more like it! No sibs. Private schools all the way. No marriage. One cohab, three-year stint that ended about fourteen months ago. No children. Registered and licensed as sensitive. Self-employed.”
“How long’s she had the license?”
“Fifteen years. Totally clean on it. A few civil suits brought against her, all judgment in favor of defendant. That’s pretty normal for working psychics. People get pissed that something didn’t work out the way they wanted, and they sue.”
“People sue the clouds
if it rains on their picnic.”
“She does a lot of corporate work. Parties, conventions. Private consults. Makes a damn good living at it. About seven, eight times that of your lowly homicide detective. Resided current SoHo address for twelve years. Also has a residence in Oyster Bay. Nice. Sounds legit to me.”
“Uh-huh. You track down Louise?”
“She’s at the shelter today.”
“Oh.” Eve had been hoping for the Canal Street Clinic. She’d yet to make a personal appearance at the women’s shelter Roarke had founded. “We take the vic’s residence first. If we clear enough time, we’ll go by, talk to Louise.”
“I’ve been wanting to see Dochas for myself,” Peabody commented. “Charles says Louise is really juiced about it.”
“You talk to Charles?”
“Sure, now and then.”
As Charles, a professional and licensed companion, was Louise’s guy, and had been Peabody’s guy, minus sexual fun, it just struck Eve as weird.
But the ins and outs of relationships always struck her as weird. Her own included.
“Any luck with the ribbon?”
“If you call the fact that more than thirty retail outlets carry it in the borough of Manhattan alone luck, then yeah. Got the manufacturers, the distributors. It’s a pretty common item, Dallas, in craft stores, party stores. Some of the better department stores carry it in their gift wrap department. It’s going to be tough to find his source.”
“If it was easy, everybody would be cops.”
It was far from easy to question Deann Vanderlea again. The woman looked exhausted, ill, and weighed down with worry and grief.
“I’m sorry we have to intrude.”
“It’s all right. Luther, my husband, he’s been delayed. Air traffic. I’d do better if he were here. I couldn’t do much worse.”
She gestured toward chairs in the living area. The lounging robe had been replaced with slouchy black pants and a white, oversized shirt, but her hair was still tousled, her feet still bare.
“I haven’t slept, and I’m holding on by the fingernails at this point. Do you have any news? Did you find the man who did this?”