“I didn’t call EDD.”
“We were out with Callendar and her latest hunk,” Peabody said. “That is the Jimmy Jay, right?”
“Apparently. Take prints to confirm, get TOD for the record.” Eve eyed McNab and the red and orange starburst on his purple tee. He wore slick green airskids to match the slick green belt that kept his seeringly orange pants from sliding off his bony hips.
Despite the fashion statement, and the half-dozen colorful rings weighing down his left earlobe, he was a good cop. And since he was here, she might as well put him to work.
“Got a recorder, Detective?”
“Don’t leave home without it.”
“Mr. Attkins, I’d like you to take a seat out there—” Eve gestured vaguely to the audience. “And give your statement to Detective McNab. Thanks for your help.”
She turned to first on scene. “Officer, where’s the vic’s wife?”
“In her dressing room, sir. I’ll escort you.”
“In a minute. Peabody, when you’re done, have the body bagged and tagged and flag Morris. I want COD asap. Cap and bag that open bottle separate from the rest. They’re all for the lab and they’re priority. The vic had three daughters, all here. You take them. I’m on the wife, the manager. McNab can take Security.”
“On that.”
Eve turned to Roarke. “Want to go home?”
“Whatever for?”
“Then find someplace quiet and comfortable. Dig into the vic.” She offered her PPC. “I’ve got the initial run on here.”
“I’ll use my own.”
“I’ve got the run started on mine.”
He sighed, took hers, tapped a couple buttons. “Now it’s on mine, too. Anything in particular you’d like me to find?”
“It’d be really keen if you found Jimmy Jay Jenkins had ties to some guy named Lino from Spanish Harlem. Otherwise . . .” She looked around the arena. “God’s a big business, right?”
“Biblical.”
“Ha. Find out how much in Jimmy Jay’s pockets, and who gets what. Thanks. Officer?”
They exited the stage, moved through the wings. “Where’s the vic’s dressing room?” she asked.
“Other side.” The cop jerked a thumb.
“Really?”
He shrugged. “Mrs. Dead Guy got the hysterics. Had to carry her off, call the MTs in for her. We got a female officer in with her. MT gave her a mild soother, but . . .”
He trailed off as wailing and sobs echoed off the walls.
“Didn’t help much,” he added.
“Great.” Eve stepped to the door where the wails and sobs battered the metal. She rolled her shoulders, opened it.
She might have staggered, not just from the sounds, but from all the pink. It was like a truckload of cotton candy exploded, and it immediately gave her a phantom toothache.
The woman herself wore a pink dress with an enormous skirt that poofed up as she sprawled on a chaise like a candy mountain. Her hair, a bright, eye-dazzling gold, tumbled in disarray around a face where several pounds of enhancers had melted and washed down in black, red, pink, and blue streaks.
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