CHAPTER TEN
Bright sighed as he entered the lovely parlor where Ms. Harriet March was setting out the service for tea.
“My dear March, the time has come for us to move on. How do you feel about Budapest?”
“Hungry for goulash.”
He chortled, giggled, slapped his thighs. “That’s the spirit! I’ve given notice. We’ll begin packing after our session with the delightful Mrs. Melton.”
“Our Mouse signaled they’re on their way.”
“Excellent.”
“And will Mrs. Melton join her sister in the Wonderland?”
He smiled at the avid look in her eyes. He’d been right to keep her. He’d sensed her potential when she’d first come to him—seeking communication with a lost love. A shadow of darkness inside her, so easily deepened with time and patience.
And of course the tonic she’d become so fond of.
“She and her husband will make their journey tonight, even as we make our own.”
Eyes shining, she clapped her hands. “We’ve never sent two clients down the rabbit hole so close together.”
“Isn’t it fun! Our time in New York has been so lucrative, and we waited so long for the first to go. I thought sending another would be our little farewell party. And there she is now! Would you get the door, Ms. March?”
“Of course, Doctor Bright. The tea and cakes are all prepared.”
Naturally, he thought, and swallowed the little tablet that would offset the tea. He checked himself in the mirror—his favorite looking glass had traveled with him around the world. And he decided he’d use his favorite top hat for this last session in New York.
Then he turned to greet the marvelously wealthy and wonderfully hopeful Mrs. Melton.
She came to him, both hands outstretched. “Oh, Doctor Bright, I’ve so looked forward to today. I’m so anxious to speak with my sister again.”
“There’s nothing like a sister,” he said with a wide, wide grin. “Let’s have some tea.”
It would, he thought, be a lovely party.
* * *
Eve planned her approach carefully. She and Peabody would go to the house, gain access.
She circled the conference room where she’d assembled her team. “I want him in the box. Once we get him out, the search team—with the warrants—goes in. The detectives from Illegals will handle the search for the drugs. McNab and Callendar take the electronics. And since the expert consultant civilian wants in, he’s on finances. We want to establish Fitzwilliams paid him that nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars a session and do a secondary check to see if he scammed his way into her will, probably through the foundation.
“Look for false IDs—licenses, passports—and a client list. Check for recordings of the Fitzwilliamses’ murders, and any others.” She glanced around the room, nodded. “Peabody.”
“Set.”
“Let’s hit in.”
Roarke moved up beside her as they headed out. “He must have abilities. He’ll try to read you.”
“I know how to block. Peabody’s father’s a sensitive, and he taught her how to filter. She’s anxious about it, but we’ve got to go in. I want to see his place, see his reactions before we bring him in.”
“He’s not working alone.”
“Thought of that. This is what we do, Roarke.”
He knew it, all too well. “It’s one thing when your body’s on the line. This is your mind as well, so have a care with both.”
“Plan to.” She separated from him in the garage, got into the car with Peabody.
“I’m a little nervous,” Peabody admitted. “What if he tries to put—”
“Don’t say whammy.”
“What if he tries to put the thing I’m not saying on us?”
“Think about sex with McNab.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t you say your father told you to fill your mind with other thoughts, confused and jumbled? Do that. Nobody’s going to want to keep pushing in if all he gets is you and McNab and sex.”
Catching Peabody’s smile, Eve hissed. “Not now. Stop thinking about it now. It creeps me out.”
“Just practicing.” Happily, Peabody practiced all the way uptown.
Rather than search for a space, Eve flipped up her On Duty light and double-parked. She didn’t think this first stage would take above fifteen minutes.
“Wow, this place is really beautiful.” Peabody studied the wide, three-level townhouse as they approached. “It looks sort of European. I bet it’s on the historic register. One of those great old buildings from the nineteenth century that survived the Urbans.”
“We can admire the architecture later.” Eve had been studying it as well. Doors, windows, exits. She doubted her quarry would rabbit—a loss of control and power—but she wanted the layout.
“Cop face—no bullshit, straight out.”
“Sorry, I’m thinking about sex with McNab.”
“I could learn to hate you,” Eve threatened, and rang the bell.
Palm plate, cams, police locks, she noted. She stared stony-eyed ahead until the voice came through the intercom.
“Please state your business.”
Not a computer, she thought. Not with that squeaky tone. So, at least two to take on.
“NYPSD. We need to speak with Doctor Bright.”
“Doctor Bright’s unavailable. Go away, and come back later.”
“You can open the door, or I’ll stand right here until I get a warrant to open it myself.”
And if he didn’t, she’d use the warrant she already had. But the door opened a crack. She had to look down a half a foot to meet the eyes of the man with a wild thatch of brown hair. Those eyes had the pinkish tint of a funky junkie.
“The doctor can’t talk to you now.”
Eve solved the first problem by getting her foot in the door, nudging it open a little wider. “Who are you?”
“I’m Dorbert Mouse. Who are you?”
“Lieutenant Eve Dallas.” Dormouse. It suited. “Why don’t you tell Doctor Bright I’m here, along with Detective Peabody?”
“Because he can’t be interrupted when he’s communing with the Other Side!”
The quick excitability spoke of something in addition to the funk.
“He needs to commune with us.” Eve nudged the door wider still and saw the brightly colored painting of a hookah-smoking caterpillar curled on a toadstool.
“Nobody invited you! Go away!”
“Look Mouse—or is that Dormouse?”
His pink-rimmed eyes filled with rage. His nose twitched manically. “You can’t see my whiskers! They’re not for you to see.”
He kicked her, the move so unexpected his foot connected with her shin before she anticipated it. Then he ran, bolting up the steps.
“Shit. Call the e-team in for backup,” Eve ordered, and pulled her weapon as she gave chase.
He bounded up, with her and her aching shin in pursuit, and Peabody coming up behind her shouting for the e-team to move in.
He made a fast turn on the second-floor landing and vanished. But not before Eve caught the movement of a wall panel sliding shut.
She tugged at it, got nothing, then ran her fingers along the carved chair rail. When the panel slid open again, she grabbed a statue of a white rabbit with an oversized pocket watch and used it to prop the panel open.
Inside, in half light, she saw crooked steps leading up, and leading down. She closed her eyes for a moment, heard the sound of feet scrambling.
“Up,” she said. “Watch your step.”