Devoted in Death (In Death 41)

Eve went back to the car through the chorus of angry horns and cursing. “One more,” she said. “It’s on the way.”

She had better luck with parking at the skinny townhouse, with a second-level slot, but no more inside.

Another woman, this one a weeper, who reported her longtime roomer/lover had vanished one evening when going out for a pack of gum. A small shrine stood under the front window – photographs, flowers, candles, an empty bottle of wine (the last, it seemed, they’d shared) a single red sock and a pair of black gloves.

It didn’t take long for Eve to work out a theory – not the alien abduction the woman currently held firm – and slightly longer to extricate herself and Banner.

“That’s enough for now. Jesus.” Eve shook her head as she pulled back into traffic. “Aliens, for God’s sake.”

“I’ve got a cousin back home who claims he’s been abducted four times.”

“I don’t think Curtis Hemming’s been anal probed by scientists of the planet Grum. He walked out for gum and kept walking because he wanted to get away from the lunatic who’d decided he was her soul mate. Sex is one thing, obsession’s another. In any case, the unsubs aren’t using either of those locations, and it’s improbable they ever crossed paths with Potter or Hemming.

“We’ll refine the search, see if we can cut out some of the walk-aways.”

She shoved through a knot of traffic, swerved around a maxibus, made her way through a snaking line of cabs.

“You sure can drive, Lieutenant. You sure can drive.”

Eve glanced over. “That’s not a comment I get often,” she decided and bulled her way uptown.

12

When Eve drove through the gates Banner gave a low, through-the-teeth whistle and said, “Holy hell.”

She glanced over, saw he’d leaned forward, eyes fixed ahead.

She’d gotten used to the mass and magnificence, she admitted, but she understood absolutely the staggering impression the house made, its windows lit against the dark sky, its silhouette both powerful and fanciful with snow – white and blue in the lights – spread at its feet.

“I saw the vid,” he told her, “but it sure smacks you upside the head live and in person. Sort of like a castle, isn’t it, right inside the city.”

“He’s Irish,” Eve said, as if that explained it all.

“Biggest house I’ve ever seen.”

“Me too.” Mildly embarrassed, she pulled up, parked. “Summerset – that’s Roarke’s… man of everything,” she decided, “will have your room ready. You can get settled in, and we’ll take this in my home office.”

“Good enough. I want to say again, I appreciate this.”

“Rooms we’ve got.”

“I can sure see that.” He got out, hauled up his gear. “Biggest house I’ve ever seen,” he called out against the wind, “in the coldest place I’ve ever been to. It’s a by-God experience.”

She led the way inside, saw – as expected – Summerset in the foyer with the cat squatting beside him. They both gave Banner the eye.

“This is Deputy Banner.”

“Yes, Detective Peabody informed me. Welcome to New York, Deputy.”

“Thank you, and thanks for the room. Will Banner,” he added, stepping forward, extending a hand.

Summerset inclined his head, shook hands while the cat sniffed suspiciously at Banner’s boots.

“You’d be – what is it – Lancelot?”

“Galahad,” Eve corrected as Banner crouched, ran a hand smoothly over the cat, head to tail.

“Galahad – knew it was one of those knights. Like I said, I saw the vid. Lucky cat – two eye colors. That’s a lucky cat.”