Devoted in Death (In Death 41)

And look at them all, Eve thought as she drove. Millions of possible victims.

The LCs, the beggars, the unwary tourists, the executive hurrying to make a late meeting, his mind on business, the shopkeeper, shutting down for the night, the stripper heading home in the predawn dark.

Pick and choose, Eve thought, and the variety was endless.

She parked on Perry, thought about the neighborhood.

“Do me a favor. Contact Charles or Louise, they live pretty damn close, and Louise, especially, would come and go at odd hours and alone.” Doctors and cops, Eve thought, kept no hours. They kept all hours.

“I already did, after I saw the map.”

“Good thinking. The cab dropped him here. Perry and Greenwich. Three blocks to Christopher, and another block and a half on Christopher to the club. Somewhere on these four and a half blocks, they hit him.”

She began to walk, scanning, considering, trying to see it.

“He knows the area, comes down here a lot. It was cold, but clear. No wind to speak of, nothing spitting out of the sky. A nice frosty night for a brisk walk, clear out the opera, maybe, pull in the jazz.”

“It wouldn’t take more than five minutes to walk it,” Peabody pointed out.

“That’s all they needed.” She stopped. “Here. Look at that brownstone. Nobody cleared the snow off the walkway or the steps. All the privacy screens are down. What do you want to bet whoever lives there is away? Business trip, vacation.”

“Do you think they used this place? But like you said, the walk, the steps. If they took him in there, there’d be signs someone walked through the snow.”

“I don’t think they took him in there, I think they took him here. Park in front of this place. Yeah, other houses around, but no one directly. And it’s going on midnight, a cold, clear night in a settled neighborhood. I bet a lot of the lights were off in the neighboring houses. They have to take him fast, and quiet. Distract him with the female, the male moves in – that’s got to be it. Disable, restrain, transport. Let’s knock on doors.”

They tried the nearest neighbor, another dignified brownstone with a square of front courtyard that set it back from the sidewalk. They got the nanny, and after she electronically scanned their ID, eyeballed them herself, she admitted them as far as the front foyer.

“The kids are having their afternoon snack. If Justin knows there’s a cop around, he’ll get hyper. He loves cops vids and games. Is there a problem?”

“Nothing here. Just a few questions. The people next door? Are they away?”

“The Minnickers, yes.” The nanny, all five feet of her sniffed. “Don’t tell me somebody broke in there. They got enough security for the White House. Not what you call friendly people, either. Pretty snooty, not

like my people. And that woman. She came over here getting all up in my face last summer because my little Rosie picked one of her flowers. It was coming right through the pickets, out to the sidewalk. What harm did it do for Rosie to have it? But what did my lady do, my lady has class. She had the florist take that woman a big arrangement. And didn’t even get a thanks for it. That’s what kind of people they are over there.”

She folded her arms at her chest with a distinctive hmmph. “I bet they got in trouble, didn’t they, out in Hawaii? That’s where they are, right up till March is what I heard.”

“I couldn’t say. Are you live-in?”

“Nope. Eight to four most days. What’s this about?”

“Have you noticed a strange vehicle around the neighborhood in the last few days? Maybe just driving by too often, or parked next door.”

“I can’t say I have, no, sorry.” She stopped, head angled, eyes narrowed. “They’re starting to get into it back there. I’ve got to get back to them. You could try Mr. Havers, on the other side of that house. He works nights a lot – at home. They’re nice people.”

They found Havers at home and willing to talk.

He was a bulky man in his middle fifties, by Eve’s gauge, and with an absent look in light brown eyes.

“Not last night,” he muttered. “Not the night before. Night before that. Okay, okay, I’d’ve been working. I write horror novels, and right now it starts rolling for me about ten at night.”

“Drew Henry Havers?” Peabody asked.

“That’s right.”

“You’ve scared the bejesus out of me for years.”

His plain, pale face lit up like a runway. “Best compliment ever. Thanks.”