Secrets in Death (In Death 45)

“Good luck with it. I’ll see you at home. Unless you find another vault for me.”

She went back upstairs where her detectives photographed and recorded every item in the vault. She heard the commentary.

“Jesus, look at the size of this rock.”

“Is something this fugly actually worth money?”

She turned to where McNab loaded up the electronics. She started to ask about Peabody, then heard her partner’s voice. From inside the vault.

“Oh! A tiara!”

“You put that thing on your head,” Eve called out, “I’ll bury you with it. Today.”

“Might be worth it! Just kidding!”

Grinning, McNab finished loading up. “I sent copies of all content to your office and home comps, LT. I’ll get started on the data after I get back, log it all in.”

“Start at the end of alpha order, work up halfway. Feeney’s standing by to work with you.” She’d tagged him to make sure of it. “You know the parameters. Get me the list of most likely first.”

“Can and will. I’ve got the listening devices. I’ve got the discs here. Want me to take them in?”

“I’ll take those.”

He patted the evidence bag, sealed and marked, on the desk. “All yours. Hey, She-Body, I’m rolling.”

She poked her head out. Eve didn’t see anything glittering on her but her eyes. “See you later. This is fun!”

He grinned, hefted his evidence box. “Cha, all. Eighteen minutes,” he repeated as he pranced out. “It’s freaking magic.”

“Peabody, with me.”

“Aw.” But she came out, grabbed her coat. “I can’t get over it. She had her own jewelry store, and she kept it all locked up.”

“Because having was the thing.” She took the evidence bag; the boxes of books would go straight to Central. “We’re swinging by to see if DeWinter has any answers.”

“Maybe she grew up in poverty,” Peabody speculated as they walked down and out. “On the streets, maybe. You know how sidewalk sleepers can hoard things. It’s a kind of survival, and security. It could’ve grown out of that.”

“Maybe. Where’s my vehicle?”

“Oh. Two blocks down, around the corner.”

That being the case, Eve pulled her snowflake hat out of her pocket, dragged it on.

“You know,” Peabody sa

id conversationally, “it’s a real advantage that Roarke designs and manufactures security devices, safes, vaults, like that. The guys and I were saying how otherwise we’d have had to call in a specialist, and probably still be waiting. But we already had one.”

Eve flicked a glance at Peabody’s innocent smile. “You and the guys decided that?”

“Yeah. All of us agreed. A real advantage for the department, and how it fits with our squad slogan, how we protect and serve no matter, blah-blah—even our expert consultant, civilian—even when the one who got dead was an asshole. And she pretty much was.”

“Yeah, that works all around.” Touched, as she’d intended to write it up exactly that way—minus the slogan and the asshole—Eve kept walking.

In the lab, she headed straight up to DeWinter’s domain, prepared to execute a good, hard push if necessary. In fact, she looked forward to the execution.

But the only one in DeWinter’s domain was Mars—or her remains. Eve noted someone—likely DeWinter—had marked areas of the skull. The skull and the markings, along with numerous equations, covered the wall screen.

Eve turned on her heel, walked to the next area.