“Priory, James, exec in sales at Alliance Insurance Company, based in Milwaukee. Deceased, January five of this year. Vehicular accident.”
“Well, this guy’s alive and kicking. Anything wonky about Milwaukee Priory’s vehicular?”
“It doesn’t appear so, sir. The report states a driver of a jet-truck nodded off at the wheel, took out Priory and another driver. We have a number of other Priorys in Milwaukee, but this is the only James that popped.”
“Hold off running them. This guy’s got a sheet somewhere. I know it. Tag Feeney at home. Shoot him this disc image and ask him to run it through IRCCA—the International Resource Center on Criminal Activity. That’s an E-Division job, and IRCCA’s his personal darling. He’ll pop this guy out quicker than anyone else.” She checked her wrist unit. “I want to talk to Hilo. She should be coherent by now. Where’s Roarke?” she demanded, glancing around the parlor.
Peabody straightened her shoulders, looked directly at the opposite wall. “I couldn’t say.”
“Damn it.” Eve strode out, pinned the guard at the door. “Hilo.”
“She’s in 4020, Lieutenant.”
“Nobody goes in this room without a badge. Nobody.” She walked to the elevator, jabbed the button. The fact that Roarke had left the crime scene meant only one thing. He was up to something.
The good news was Hilo was indeed coherent. She was pale, red-eyed, but sat quietly in the parlor area of one of the hotel’s smaller suites. There was a teapot on the table in front of her, and a cup in her hand, which she set down when Eve walked in.
“Ms. Hilo, I’m Lieutenant Dallas with the NYPSD.”
“Yes, yes, I know. Roarke explained that you wanted me to wait for you here with Mr. Brigham.”
Eve shot a look toward Brigham, who stood staring, with apparent fascination, at the painting on the far wall. “Roarke explained?” Eve repeated.
“Yes, he came down to sit with me awhile. Ordered this tea for me himself. It’s just like him. He’s a lovely man.”
“Oh yeah, he’s just peachy. Ms. Hilo, have you spoken with anyone but Mr. Brigham and Roarke since you’ve been waiting for me?”
“Oh no. I was told not to.” She looked trustingly at Eve with swollen eyes the color of walnuts. “Mrs. Roarke—”
“Dallas.” Eve didn’t grit her teeth, but it was close. “Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Pardon me, Lieutenant Dallas, I want to apologize for causing such a scene before when . . . before,” she finished, and drew in a shaky breath. “I couldn’t seem to stop. When I found poor little Darlene . . . I couldn’t seem to stop.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, no.” Hilo lifted her hands. She was a small woman, but solidly built. The kind of build, Eve always thought, that kept right on steadily marching after wimpy long-distance runners passed out on the field. “I just ran out and left her there, left her like that. I’m in charge, you see. From six to one, I’m in charge, and I just ran away from her. I didn’t even touch her, or cover her up.”
“Mrs. Hilo.”
“Just Hilo.” She managed a small smile that only made her weary face look sadder. “It’s Natalie Hilo, but everyone just calls me Hilo.”
“All right. Hilo.” Eve sat, put off turning on the recorder. “You did exactly what was best. If you had touched her, if you had covered her up, you would have contaminated the crime scene. That would have made it more difficult for me to find the person who hurt her. To find him and make sure he pays.”
“That’s what Roarke said.” Her eyes filled again, but she got a handkerchief from her pocket and briskly wiped the tears away. “He said just that, and that you would find the horrible person who did this to her. He said you wouldn’t stop looking until you’d found him.”
“That’s right. You can help me, and Darlene. Brigham, could Hilo and I have some privacy?”
“Sure. You can reach me at ninety on the house ’link.”
“I’m going to record what we talk about,” Eve said when they were alone. “All right?”
“Yes.” She sniffed, straightened. “I’m ready.”
Eve set a recorder on the table. She recited the particulars. “Let’s start with you telling me what happened. Why did you go to Suite 4602?”
“Darlene was behind schedule. When the evening routine’s finished in each room or suite, the housekeeper presses Code Five on her beeper. This helps us keep track of the staff and the units completed. While it goes toward efficiency, it’s also a security measure to protect the guests and the staff.”
She sighed a little, and picked up her cup of tea. “Turndowns generally take between ten and twenty minutes, depending on the size of the unit and the pace of the particular housekeeper. We allow some leeway, of course. Quite often the state of a unit is such that it takes considerably longer. You’d be amazed, Lieutenant, really amazed, at how some people treat a hotel room. It makes you wonder how they live at home.”