Connections in Death (In Death 48)

“She’s a prime suspect on accessory to murder.”

Both uniforms stared. The female found her voice. “Dinnie? She’s a user, a skank, and as useless as bull tits, but I wouldn’t peg her on murder.”

“How long have you worked this sector?” Eve asked.

“Eight years. Zutter here has seven.”

“Do you know Lyle Pickering?”

“Sure. We busted him a time or two. Addict, asshole, had some violence in there, but it was mostly the Go.”

Zutter nodded. “He sure liked his Go. He’s out. Last I heard he was giving the straight way a try. We even had breakfast at Casa del Sol about a month ago, where he cooks. Seemed to be doing okay.”

“He was—got his two-year chip, worked the job. And tonight, I have reason to believe Duff gained entra

nce to his apartment, assisted three unknown males into same. And now he’s dead.”

“Dinnie.” Zutter puffed his cheeks, shook his head. “Dumber than a splintered post and half-crazy with it. Too bad about Pick. Too damn bad. Well.” He rolled his shoulders. “Ready, Norton?”

“Born ready,” she said. “Raised to roll.”

They approached the door emblazoned with the Banger fist.

5

Zutter stepped up. “They’ve got a secret knock for the guard inside.”

Eve stared at him. “No joke?”

“No joke.” Zutter banged his fist in a quick one, two, three—pause—one, two—pause—one.

“And an unbreakable code, too.”

Zutter spread his lips in a grin. “Door guards aren’t usually their best and brightest.”

To prove it, the guard who opened the door boasted more fat than muscle, a bull ring in his nose that would cause him serious pain when anyone with sense yanked it in a fight, and a monster matching game still grring on his PPC.

“Don’t need no cops.”

“Slice wants to confab.”

“Slice wants?”

“Smelled some Dragon breath. What the what, Toro, you axe the zombies first. Ice pick them crawlers, grab up the torches for frying vamps.”

Toro frowned down at the game. “Zombies first?”

While he puzzled over that, Zutter nudged the bulk of him aside to clear a path for the stairs. “Monster Hunter,” Zutter said as they walked up. “My eight-year-old kid plays it. Like I said, not the brightest.”

Eve heard banging music, throaty moans, exaggerated gasps. It didn’t take seeing the action to recognize a porn vid in play.

The stairs opened into a line of living quarters. Most stood open—a number didn’t have doors to close in the first place.

The one on the left boasted doubles, both open. The bump and grind of porn music rolled out.

“That’s Slice’s flop. He’s top captain,” Norton explained. “Well, the only captain now, since recruiting’s way down, busts are up. Second-gen Banger.”

“How many flop here?”