Secrets in Death (In Death 45)
“Have you got a problem with me personally or just New York City cops?”
“I got a problem with New York City cops telling me to jump and expecting me to say how high.”
“You’re going to like me less when I tell you if I don’t have that case file within two hours, I’ll be contacting not only your commanding officer with a formal complaint, but your IAB.”
“Now, you look here—”
“Getting me that file’s no skin off your ass, but I’ll damn well take a bite out of said ass if you keep fucking with me. One more thing? This communication has been recorded, as is SOP for my own case file. Dallas out.”
She broke communication. “Asshole.”
“He seemed remarkably uncooperative.”
She spun around in her chair to where Roarke leaned against her doorjamb. “Lazy is what he is. He doesn’t want to deal with the paperwork, and doesn’t seem to like New York.”
“He doesn’t like female rank,” Roarke corrected.
“Come on.”
“My take.” Roarke shrugged, stepping in to sit on the corner of her desk. “And young female rank—young, female New York rank—that just ices the cake for that type.”
“Just makes him a bigger asshole.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t care how big an asshole he is, as long as I get the case files. Progress in the e-world?”
“Considerable. Feeney’s sending you the data and a report. We’ve got more names, amounts, but she’s got books elsewhere. What she kept with her, at home, even at work, is sketchy. More of, in my opinion, a kind of pocket guide.”
“So we’re back to her having another place somewhere.”
“And I haven’t found any such place in the names she used for alternate accounts, or variations of them. Yet.”
She angled her head. “You’re having fun with it.”
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a fine puzzle, isn’t it? And as it appears bodies won’t be piling up, the urgency is lessened.”
Eve turned back to the board. “You never know about those bodies.”
“Do you have any reason to think he’ll kill again? For what purpose?”
“No reason, but once you kill, the purpose can get murky. Hey, that went well! And now that I think about it, my landlord, neighbor, brother, ex-wife, really piss me off.”
“You’re a cynical soul, Lieutenant. Only one of the countless reasons I love you. And now.”
He rose, went to the door, shut it. “What is it?”
“What’s what?”
“What’s troubling you under it all?”
“I’ve got nearly twenty-four in on a case that happened under my nose. And I’m not feeling the wind at my back.”
“Under it all,” he repeated, cupping her chin in his hand. “I can see it.”
He always could, she thought and, with a shrug, wandered away to her narrow window. “Evil’s one of those words people toss around too much, or other people say people use too easily. But the fact is, there are a lot of degrees of evil. Plain, simple evil. Cops end up seeing pretty much every form of it. You take it down when you can, just like you take down the petty bullshit. Like the pair of street thieves Peabody and I collared today.”
“Which explains the bit of bruising on your jaw.”