Treachery in Death (In Death 32)

“I guess you still can’t tell me what the righteous cause is?”

“Not yet.”

“Doesn’t matter, because I so totally didn’t like the mark. Pushy b-i-t-c-h. Hard a-s-s, and not in a good or frosty way.”

“You’re actually spelling swear words now? The kid’s not even listening.”

“You never know. This Oberman is the b word and the a word and a whole universe of other words I don’t want to say in front of my Bellamina. And, Dallas, she’d like to rip your heart out of your chest with her bare hands.”

“I’ve given her cause. That’s part of it.”

“Just watch your as—a-s-s. I was back in my grifter’s skin, you know, and man, the vibes. Cold and dark. Belle and I want our Das to stay safe, and to kick the b-word’s you-know-what.”

“I plan to do both.”

After Bella waved bye-bye, Eve got coffee, settled down to review the data she’d already accessed on the detectives who’d transferred out of Renee’s squad, crossed that with what Baxter had dug up for her.

She studied their records before, during, and after Renee’s command, their records after transfer, and in one case retirement.

She took a hard look at Detective-Sergeant Samuel Allo. Thirty-five years in before he’d turned in his papers—thirty-one years and five months of that prior to Renee’s command. A full seventeen in Illegals before Renee, and he’d finished up the last of his thirty-five years in Illegals as well, only in the six-eight out of the Bronx.

She juggled him in with a couple others who looked strong to her, ran a variety of probabilities. In the end it satisfied her to see the computer agreed with her gut.

She walked out into the bullpen. Before she could signal Peabody, Carmichael strolled over with a little box. “Got something for you, Lieutenant.”

Noting the cops on desks watched, she opened the box.

“Okay. Why are you giving me a cookie shaped like—is it a dog?”

“Yeah. See, it says Top Dog. My sister works in a bakery, so she made it.”

“Nice. Because?”

“A little token for taking Garnet down a peg. I had a case cross with one of his awhile back,” Carmichael explained. “He’s an asshole.”

“I can confirm that assessment. Why do you say so?”

“Struts,” she said with a little sneer. “I don’t like strutters. Likes pushing his weight around and acting like he’s doing you some big favor for sharing info when you’re working angles on the same case. Doesn’t like getting his pretty suits dirty either. Roasted a rook uniform in front of God and everyone for asking a question, and when I objected he told me to stop being a little girl.”

“How long did he limp?”

Carmichael smiled. “I was tempted to bust his balls, but deemed it more appropriate to secure the scene, preserve evidence. So, in the spirit of what goes around, a token for the Top Dog for busting his balls now.”

“Happy to so bust. Thanks. Peabody, with me.” Eve bit the dog’s head off as she walked out, then glanced back at her men. “Tasty.”

As Eve chewed the dog, Peabody sent her a puppy-dog look.

“Jesus, here.” She broke off a foreleg, handed it over.

“Thanks. It is tasty. Everything chill with the commander?”

“Completely. I want to recanvass the area around the crime scene, try to hook with my weasel, see if he’s got any more I can squeeze out of him.”

Since there was no weasel in this case, Peabody just nodded. “He was pretty rattled about what happened to Keener. He may have gone under for a while.”

“Then we’ll have to dig him up.”

When they were in the vehicle, Peabody asked, “Where are we really going?”