Thankless in Death (In Death 37)

She’d laid her head on her desk, with the cat curled around the point of her elbow.

He saw by the subtle jerks of her body she dreamed. Fearing a nightmare, he walked to her, spoke gently as he eased her back, then up.

“It’s all right now. I’ve got you.”

“I said I would,” she muttered.

“Then you will,” he said, shifting her into his arms.

“What?” Her eyes opened, dark and bleary. “Oh. Hell. I fell out.”

“You’re entitled. You started before dawn, and if we’re at it much longer we’ll go round the clock with it.”

“I was talking to Ms. Farnsworth.”

He smiled a little as the cat padded quickly ahead to reach the bedroom first. “Were you now? As it happens, I was myself, in a way. What did she have to say?”

“She’s just really pissed off.”

“And who could blame her? She put his name in it, coded through the routing.”

“What?” Her eyes went instantly alert even as he dumped her on the bed. “What?”

“Jerald Reinhold. His name, and a short statement we’ve untangled so far. Jerald Reinhold did this.”

“But where’s the money? What name’s he using? Where—”

“If we knew, I believe I’d have led with it.”

He pulled her boots off for her, heard her involuntary groan of relief.

“We’ve got a start on the routine, which is miraculous, and more so this much of her encoded message. She didn’t make it easy—over and above the whole lot being wiped, and well wiped at that. I’m supposing she knew he wasn’t a complete idiot when it comes to Comp Science, and had to be careful about it.

“It’s good progress, Eve,” he assured her. “Better than any of us who know the business expected at this point.”

“Okay, all right. She coded in his name, pointed a finger at him. It adds weight. Though we won’t need any, weight never hurts.”

She switched gears. “What about tenants?”

“Moving through them. A lot of buildings, Lieutenant, and not all the data is current because of the—”

“Goddamn, stinking, stupid holiday.”

Her biting tone nearly made him smile. “True enough. But I was able to order a rush on my own places, and all the new tenants and/or applications from new tenants will be current tomorrow, holiday or no.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve thrown a spanner into some holidays, but it shouldn’t take long, and then they can get back to their stuffing.”

“A lot of uniforms are cursing my name. The ones on the twenty-four/seven tip line for sure. But it only takes one person to see him, to call it in.”

“And we’ll see to all of it tomorrow.”

They’d both undressed as they spoke, and now crawled into bed.

“I don’t want to go to the morgue tomorrow, Roarke.”

“You’re doing everything you can to prevent that.”