“One good chomp would probably do it the way you’re looking. Anyway. We got hot on the Barrister case.”
“Tourist from Ohio, right?”
“ Omaha. Same difference. The concerned citizen Trueheart’s escorting out has come forward as a wit.”
“That mope one of your weasels?”
“Yeah, he’s on my roll.” Baxter got comfortable, planting his ass on the table. “Thing is, he saw it go down, scratched his butt over it for a day or so, then tagged me. Vic went down the underground, under Broadway and Thirty-eighth. Hell’s Fire. You know the joint?”
“Yeah. S-and-M theme, lots of party favors. Mock human sacrifices nightly. I like to drop in to relax after a long shift.”
Baxter grinned. “Just your style. So the vic strolls in, flashy wrist unit, shiny shoes, big attitude. Rents a slave, pays for the deluxe bondage package.”
“Deluxe?”
“That would be your chains, whips, ball gag in your choice of colors, mini-Taser, leash, and collar. Three-hour rental.”
“What, no costumes?”
“Costumes are the super deluxe pack. But he sprang for one of the display cubes so he could put on a show for the crowd.”
“Nice.”
“He wants to score before he gets his rocks off, so he zeros in on Sykes.” Baxter, not as fussy about coffee as Eve, walked over and keyed in his code on the machine. “You want?”
“No. I can live without drinking mud made from dirt and horse piss.”
“He wants a free sample-can you beat it-wants a freebie before he pays. Sykes tells him to fuck off, but the guy hounds him. He’s got plenty to spend, but he wants a taste first. Pokes at Sykes, flashes a wad. ‘Gimme a taste and if I like it, I’ll buy a full bag.’ So Sykes, who’d had a free sample or two himself, says, ‘I’ll give you a taste, fuckface, see how you like this.’ And proceeds to stick him a couple dozen times with his buck knife.”
Eve waited until Baxter planted his ass again. “He got the point across.”
“Har. After said point is made, Sykes hauls Barrister’s dead body up, carries him out of the club, and dumps him at the bottom of the stairs on the passage down on Broadway. Where he was subsequently tripped over by a couple of idiot college kids who thought they’d like an underground adventure.”
“An urban fable. You know where to find Sykes?”
“Got a couple of haunts in addition to his last known. I figure on trying the last known first. Try to keep my kid above the sidewalk. It’s a jungle down there.”
“Either way, close it up.”
“I thought I’d let Trueheart take the lead on the interview once we have Sykes in the box. Give him some play.”
Eve thought of the baby-faced Trueheart. It would probably be good for him, and Baxter wouldn’t let it go south. “Your call. Notify Illegals after you close it up. They can tag on whatever charges they want to pick from the menu. But sew up the Murder Two first.”
“That’s the plan. Oh, and break a leg.”
“What?”
“That’s what you say to somebody before a performance, which seems pretty damn stupid to me. Now. Nadine.”
“Christ,” was all she said, and stalked out.
She found Peabody at Vending just down from the bull pen. Peabody ’s face was a study in concentration as she scanned the offerings. “Energy Bar or Goo-Goo bar. The Energy Bar is, of course, nutritionally balanced, but the Goo-Goo is delicious and will provide me with great joy until the guilt sets in. Which should it be?”
“You’re going to go for the fake chocolate and sugar. Why torture yourself over it?”
“Please, Lieutenant, this is a process. The torture is part of the process. Goo-Goo it is. You want?”
What she wanted was the candy bar she’d hidden in her office, but that was not to be. “Yeah, what the hell.”
While the machine chirped out the Goo-Goo jingle and the nutritional data until Eve wanted to smash it with a hammer, she and Peabody stood munching on candy. “I want Williams picked up, brought down for questioning. We’ll send a couple of big, stone-faced, intimidating uniforms to the school.”
“Nice touch. Scary, but it’s like you’re saying you don’t have time to go get him yourself.”
“We’ll book Interview Room B. Baxter and Trueheart are bringing in a suspect. We’ll leave A for them.”
“I know a couple of uniforms who’d be perfect for the pickup.”
“Get it done.” Eve frowned down at the candy. “These things make you feel a little nauseous?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s part of the thrill.”
Eve handed the last half of her Goo-Goo to Peabody. “Go wild. Meanwhile, I’m going to try to broker us another warrant to go through Williams’s residence, all his e-toys.”
Eve contacted APA Cher Reo, and learned the pretty blonde was already in the building. They met in Eve’s office where the coffee, at least, was prime.
“You know,” Reo began, “you’d think things would slow down in this kind of weather. But despite the cold, the ice, the wind, people are still raping and robbing and ripping at each other.” Reo took an appreciative sip of coffee. “Kind of makes me proud to be a New Yorker.”
“We don’t let winter get in the way of our mayhem. So, about my dead teacher.” Eve brought her up to date, made the pitch for a search warrant.
“Will Sanchez file a complaint?”
“Can’t say. Right now she’s worried if her husband clues in he’ll perform mayhem on Williams. But she came in, and she told it straight. This guy’s hunting on school grounds.”
“Do you suspect he’s hunting students?”
“I’ve got nothing that points that way, but it’s not out of the question. It looks to me like the vic had a come-to-Jesus talk with him. No reason for Williams to back off on Sanchez otherwise. Other statements indicate Craig saw him in a compromising position with someone he shouldn’t have been compromising with. The school’s not only a good gig-pays well, nice bennies, clean and shiny, but it’s an all-you-can-screw buffet for someone like Williams.”
“Gee.” Reo downed coffee. “Why can’t I ever get a nice guy like that?”
“Maybe you’ll prosecute and convict him, then you could be penpals.”
“Oh, if only.”
“So. If the vic threatened Williams’s standing, he may have decided to eliminate the threat.”
“No history of violence, no criminal record, no civil suits?”
“No, but you’ve got to start somewhere. It’s enough for a warrant, Reo.”
“Maybe. I can work it,” she decided. “But the fact that the guy’s a pig doesn’t make him a murdering pig. Find me something that says he is.”
As Reo headed out, she glanced back. “By the way, looking forward to seeing you and Nadine tonight.”
Eve only sighed and rested her head in her hands. Then she shook it, and contacted Feeney, her friend and the captain of the Electronic Detectives Division.
His face came on screen-comfortably lived in, baggy at the eyes, topped with wiry ginger and gray hair that went in any direction it chose.
“Yo,” he said.
“Need a man in the field. Since Peabody hasn’t irritated me today, I’d like McNab if you can spare him. On-scene e-work. Warrant’s coming through.”
“Who’s dead? Anybody I know?”
“Teacher. Private school. Ricin poisoning.”
“Yeah, yeah, got wind of that. Education’s a risky business. You can have my boy.”
“Thanks. Ah…Hey, Feeney, did your wife ever give you any grief about…other women.”
“What other women?”
“Yeah, there’s that. But like, when you were training me, and we partnered up, we worked pretty tight.”
“Wait a minute. You’re a woman?”
It made her laugh and call herself a fool. “Turns out. McNab can meet us in fifteen, in the garage. Appreciate it.”
McNab was a fashion plate from the tips of his long, shiny hair to the stacked soles of his purple airboots. His calf-length parka was in eye-watering orange, and his watch cap had zigzags of both colors. His earlobes were studded with a multitude of tiny silver balls.