Connections in Death (In Death 48)

“No, and it wouldn’t take long. Minutes, really. While he’s dying, they plant the illegals and works where they’re easy to find.”

She moved back to the body, lifted the sweatshirt to expose the abdomen and lower ribs, and the bruising.

“Couldn’t resist giving him a couple shots before they killed him. Personal. Could’ve been clean, but they’re not as smart as they think.”

She walked to the door again to answer a knock.

“Good timing,” she said to Peabody—and McNab, who stood with her. “We’ve got a homicide staged, poorly, to look like an OD.”

“Rochelle’s brother?” Peabody looked beyond Eve to the body. “Man, that’s rough.”

“No cams out front or on the door. You got the god of e’s already,” McNab added. “But I can help if you need.”

“You could knock on doors with Peabody. I don’t think we’ll have much luck, if any, but we need to check if anybody saw anything. I’m looking, particularly, for anybody who came into the building or approached this unit, left this unit between seven and seven forty-five tonight.”

“Can do.”

“Rochelle?” Peabody added.

“I had Crack take her to his place. They got back from dinner out about nine-fifteen, found him, tagged me. I’ll fill you in later. Sweepers and dead wagon on the way. Try to dig me up a wit.”

Even as she spoke, the door across the hall opened. A woman, mid-fifties, mixed race, streaked hair slicked back in a tail, stepped out.

“I saw something.”

Eve eased the door behind her closed to block the view of the body. “Ma’am.”

“You the police?”

“Yes, ma’am.” All three drew out badges.

“Well, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t listen through the door when I heard these two come up.” She nodded her chin at Peabody and McNab. “Been more coming up the stairs tonight than I hear in a month or more.”

Then she sighed. “Is that young Lyle in there, come to a bad end?”

“Yes. Could we have your name?”

“I’m Stasha-Jean Gregory. I’m going to say I got home from work right about six, got out of my work clothes, had a brew, fixed me some dinner. I heard Lyle come up—gets so you recognize the steps—and, plus, I heard him open the door there. I think that was about seven, maybe a little before, but not much. Then I heard that sweet Rochelle leaving not too long after. Figure she had a date because she was wearing heels. Couldn’t’ve been more than ten minutes after Lyle went on in.”

“And you heard someone else come up?” Eve prompted.

“I saw that one. I forgot how it’s trash day tomorrow, so I had to run my bag down. She was coming up.”

“She?”

“A girl. Had a hood on, had her head down, but I got a glimpse, and she had a girl body, you know what I mean. Breasts and such. Pink in her hair. I heard her knocking on Lyle’s door, and kind of crying. Saying how she was ready for help, or needed help. Didn’t pass her on my way back, so I figured he let her in.”

“What time?”

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“Rochelle couldn’t’ve been gone five minutes.”

“You didn’t recognize this girl?”

“I think maybe I’ve seen her around outside before. Not up here. So, I’m hardly back inside my place when I hear more coming up. I think three.” Ms. Gregory blew out a breath. “All right, I know three because I got nosy and looked out the peep.”

“Did you recognize them?”