Vendetta in Death (In Death 49)

It made two of Brant’s, with Po’s adjoining office a kind of afterthought. It boasted a full adjoining bath, an entertainment nook, with an AutoChef, a friggie, a bar. And a snazzier yet view of the city.

“I don’t have the passcode to his private files, or the locked drawer,” Po began.

“We’ll take care of it.”

“I can get you into the company files, e-mails, and so on. I have those codes, if it helps.”

“It does. Peabody, tag Reo for the warrant, then EDD.”

“On that.”

“If you need me to explain any of the data …”

“Getting us in’s enough for now. We’re going to need your office electronics, too.”

“Oh boy. I could open them if you want.”

“Appreciate it. Once you open things up, why don’t you take a break? If we need you, we’ll let you know.”

“He’s better busy,” Schupp commented.

“Yeah, I am. Wes knows me. I could maybe help Sylvia, keep busy and out of your way.”

“Go ahead. You’ve been a big help, Mr. Po, both you and Mr. Schupp.”

“It doesn’t really seem real,” Po murmured, as he efficiently opened the office comp, a memo book, a calendar. “Not all the way real. I guess it will.”

As he moved off to do the same in his office, Eve eyed the locked drawer. Then pulled out her signaling ’link to read a text.

Come up and see me. I can give you some data on your victim.

Of course he could, Eve thought. Roarke would know she’d entered the building almost as soon as she had—and would by now have gathered up whatever data there was to gather up on his dead tenant.

It would be worth a stop.

Got a few things yet to do down here—including picking a lock. We’ll come up after.

Need a hand with the lock?

Maybe, she thought, but answered: Don’t insult me.

As it was now a matter of pride, she settled down, got to work.

“Warrant’s in the works,” Peabody told her. “McNab’s heading over. He reports McEnroy didn’t return to the apartment until around midnight—that’s night before last. And he didn’t return alone.”

Eve glanced up from the lock. “A woman?”

“A duet. Two redheads, and McNab says they both looked seriously wasted. Drunk or high or both. They left looking pretty much the same about oh four hundred.”

“Didn’t waste any time once the wife left, did he?”

Unsurprised, Eve went back to the very stubborn lock.

“The guy was a dick who thought with his dick. Anyway, EDD’s sending a transport for what’s tagged from the residence, then from here.”

“Bitch.”

“Huh?”