Connections in Death (In Death 48)

Reo made a somehow ladylike snorting sound, then a low-throated, nicely evil laugh.

“Excellent.”

“I practice. From what you got from Washington, there won’t be a deal on this one.”

“We just finished getting corroboration from Chesterfield, and a few more details.” She checked her wrist unit. “I’m going to have Jorgenson brought up.”

“I’ll notify his attorney of record.”

“Keep the desk. I still need to—”

Eve broke off as she heard footsteps—a smooth, steady stride. It didn’t surprise her to see Kyung step into her doorway.

He was a tall, slick-looking black man, and as media liaison, not an asshole.

“Lieutenant, APA Reo, I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“The commander said this afternoon, later this afternoon. It’s not even afternoon yet.”

“Nearly. I’ve just spoken with Chief Tibble, who is now on his way back to the city. He would like to target four o’clock. If this doesn’t give you enough time, I can and will push it back.”

Eve calculated. No point trying to wiggle out of it, so she calculated. She wanted to close out Jorgenson, Jones, and Cohen. “I can let you know by fifteen hundred.”

“I can work with that. I will have a statement.” He held up a hand before Eve could object. “Not for you to make, but for you to clear, to make sure we have all the facts in order, and if you choose, for you to spring off of during your time. In addition, I’m aware you rarely use facial enhancements.”

“Screw that. I’m not going to—”

Again, he held up a hand. “I was going to request you not make this one of those rare times. Let’s show them what our cops are made of.”

Eve drained her coffee, set the mug down again. “You continue to not be an asshole, Kyung.”

“I do my best to maintain that benchmark. APA Reo, if I could have a few minutes.”

“Use the office,” Eve told them.

Eve left them, used Baxter’s desk to order Jorgenson brought to Interview, to text Roarke the next promised update.

Two for two now. On deck with number three.

A moment later, he responded.

Swing away, Lieutenant.

“For the fucking fences,” she murmured.

Peabody swiveled around. “I can give you a running list of who’s completed Interview, the charges, the disposition.”

“Send it to my PPC.” She started to rise when Baxter came in, but he shook his head, sat on the corner of the desk.

“We’re taking a break. I told Trueheart to take a walk outside, get some air.”

“Because?”

“We just finished with one. He’s fourteen. His child advocate and his mother were both with him. The mother’s begging us to help her, to help him. She says a couple of the Bangers started coming around the school a couple years ago, trying to recruit.”

“We know that’s true.”

“Yeah. Gave some free illegals, talked trash. She said her boy stayed out of their way, or tried to. And one night she’s coming home from work, she gets raped, beaten. We’ve got the incident report, so she’s not bullshitting. She didn’t know who attacked her. What else she didn’t know is a couple of the gang cornered the kid after, told him if he didn’t work for them, she’d get worse next time. Maybe end up dead next time. If he told her or anybody, they’d make sure of it.”