Echoes in Death (In Death 44)

“I’ve still got to grab my things,” Eve began, then turned to the burly man with a visitor’s badge clipped to his New York Knicks sweatshirt. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a Lieutenant Dallas.”

“You’ve found her.”

“I’m Carmine Rizzo. My boys—Luca—he said Dr. Strazza’s been murdered, and you talked to my crew.”

“Yes. One minute. Go home, Peabody.”

“I can speak to Mr. Rizzo.”

“I’ve got it. Go.” To solve the matter, Eve turned back to Carmine. “Why don’t we go sit down in our lounge? I appreciate you coming in,” she continued as she steered him out. “We didn’t see any reason to interrupt your Sunday as your crew was cooperative.”

“They’re good boys. Men,” he corrected. “All five of them on that job. I know them, their families. I want to make sure they’re not in trouble.”

“At this point, I’m looking at Luca, Ollie, Stizzle, and a valet—a Bryar Coleson—as witnesses.”

“I know Bryar, she’s a good girl, friends with my daughter. Witnesses, because they saw the one you think killed Dr. Strazza?”

“That’s right.” She led him into the lounge. “You want coffee?”

“No, no, thanks.” He waved that away. “I’m cutting back.”

“Take a seat, Mr. Rizzo.”

“Carmine. Everybody calls me Carmine. Been at the game,” he told her. “Whole family—doing the thing, so all day. I didn’t hear about any of this until Luca finally tagged me. The boy’s sick about this, half blames himself.”

“He shouldn’t. He’s not in any way to blame.”

Carmine nodded, blew out a relieved breath. “I told him the same. He said Mrs. Strazza was in the hospital. She’s a sweet girl. Is she hurt bad? There was a news report when I tuned in on the way here, said how there’d been a murder and assault, but they didn’t say how bad she was hurt.”

“She was roughed up, but she’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t understand the world most of the time. Don’t understand the world. Now she’s a widow, and at her age. Maybe we can send her flowers or something.” Face grim, he stared down at the table.

“You knew Dr. Strazza,” Eve prompted.

“I can’t say I knew him all that well. Always paid on time, but he left the details of the order, the setup to Mrs. Strazza. She’s a joy to work with.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“If there’s anything we can do to help. You need to talk to any of the boys again, or talk to me, we’re there.”

“Would you know if you’ve done jobs for Neville and/or Rosa Patrick or Lori and/or Ira Brinkman during the past year or two?”

“I don’t recognize the names right off, but I can sure check on that.” He took out a notebook, keyed in the names.

“How about businesses, offices. Do you rent there?”

“All the time.”

“St. Andrew’s Hospital?”

“We’ve supplied some rentals for events, sure.”

Now Eve took out her notebook, ran off the businesses of former victims.

“We’ve worked with On Screen, sure. Outfitted some sets when it made more sense for them to rent than to buy.” He swiped through lists. “Oh, okay, that’s Neville Patrick and Kyle Knightly. Sure, sure, we work with On Screen. We’ve done a couple of small jobs for Mr. Knightly at his place. I don’t see the Brinkmans on here, or those other places. But I can check it back at the office. Memory’s not what it used to be.”