"Just trying to get my facts straight." It was fascinating watching him battle for composure. He was having a rough time of it, she noted, hands shaking, chest heaving. "I'm trying to find the man who killed Sharon, senator. I assume that's also high on your agenda."
"Finding him won't get her back." He sat again, obviously exhausted by the outburst. "What's important now is to protect what's left. To do that, Sharon must be segregated from the other women."
She didn't like his opinion, but neither did she care for his color. It was still alarmingly high. "Can I get you some water, Senator DeBlass?"
He nodded, waved at her. Eve slipped into the corridor and dispensed a cup of bottled water. When she came back, his breathing was more regular, his hands a bit steadier.
"The senator has been overtaxing himself," Rockman put in. "His Morals Bill goes before the House tomorrow. The pressure of this family tragedy is a great weight."
"I appreciate that. I'm doing everything I can to close the case." She tilted her head. "Political pressure is also a great weight on an investigation. I don't care to be monitored on my personal time."
Rockman gave her a mild smile. "I'm sorry. Could you qualify that?"
"I was monitored, and my personal relationship with a civilian reported to Chief Simpson. It's no secret that Simpson and the senator are tight."
"The senator and Chief Simpson have a personal and a political allegiance," Rockman agreed. "However, it would hardly be ethical, or in the senator's best interest, to monitor a member of the police force. I assure you, lieutenant, Senator DeBlass has been much too involved with his own grief and his responsibilities to the country to worry about your… personal relationships. It has come to our attention, however, through Chief Simpson, that you've had a number of liaisons with Roarke."
"An amoral opportunist." The senator set his cup aside with a snap. "A man who would stop at nothing to add to his own power."
"A man," Eve added, "who has been cleared of any connection with this investigation."
"Money buys immunity," DeBlass said in disgust.
"Not in this office. I'm sure you'll request the report from the commander. In the meantime, whether or not it assuages your grief, I intend to find the man who killed your granddaughter."
"I suppose I should commend your dedication." DeBlass rose. "See that your dedication doesn't jeopardize my family's reputation."
"What changed your mind, senator?" Eve wondered. "The first time we spoke, you threatened to have my job if I didn't bring Sharon 's murderer to justice, and quickly."
"She's buried," was all he said, and strode out.
"Lieutenant." Rockman kept his voice low. "I will repeat that the pressure on Senator DeBlass is enormous, enough to crush a lesser man." He let out a slow breath. "The fact is, it's destroyed his wife. She's had a breakdown."
"I'm sorry."
"The doctors don't know if she'll recover. This additional tragedy has his son crazed with grief; his daughter has closed herself off from her family and gone into retreat. The senator's only hope of restoring his family is to let Sharon 's death, the horror of it, pass."
"Then it might be wise for the senator to take a step back and leave due process to the department."
"Lieutenant – Eve," he said with that rare and quick flash of charm. "I wish I could convince him of that. But I believe that would be as fruitless an endeavor as convincing you to let Sharon rest in peace."
"You'd be right."
"Well then." He laid a hand on her arm briefly. "We must all do what we can to set things right. It was good to see you again."
Eve closed the door behind him and considered. DeBlass certainly had the kind of hair-trigger temper that could lead to violence. She was almost sorry he didn't also have the control, the calculation, to have meticulously planned three murders.
In any case, she'd have a hard time connecting a rabidly right-wing senator to a couple of New York prostitutes.
Maybe he was protecting his family, she mused. Or maybe he was protecting Simpson, a political ally.
That was crap, Eve decided. He might work on Simpson's behalf if the chief was involved in the Starr and Castle homicides. But a man didn't protect the killer of his grandchild.
Too bad she wasn't looking for two men, Eve mused. Regardless, she was going to do some pecking away at Simpson's underpinnings.
Objectively, she warned herself. And it wouldn't do to forget that there was a strong possibility that DeBlass didn't know one of his favorite political cronies had been blackmailed by his only granddaughter.
She'd have to find out.
But for now, she had another hunch to follow. She located Charles Monroe's number and put through a call.
His voice was smeared with sleep, his eyes heavy. "You spend all your time in bed, Charles?"
"All I can, Lieutenant Sugar." He rubbed a hand over his face and grinned at her. "That's how I think of you."
"Well, don't. Couple of questions."
"Ah, can't you come on over and ask in person? I'm warm and naked and all alone."
"Pal, don't you know there's a law against soliciting a police officer?"
"I'm talking freebie here. I told you – we'd keep it strictly personal."
"We're keeping it strictly impersonal. You had an associate. Georgie Castle. Did you know her?"
The seductive smile faded from his face. "Yeah, actually, I did. Not well, but I met her at a party about a year ago. She was new in the business. Fun, attractive. Game, you know. We hit it off."
"In what way?"
"In a friendly way. We had a drink now and again. Once when Sharon had an overbooking, I had her send a couple of clients Georgie's way."
"They knew each other." Eva pounced on it. "Sharon and Georgie?"
"I don't think so. As far as I remember, Sharon contacted Georgie, asked her if she was interested in a couple of fresh tricks. Georgie gave it the green light, and that was that. Oh, yeah, Sharon said something about Georgie sending her a dozen roses. Real ones, like a thank-you gift. Sharon got a real kick out of the old-fashioned etiquette."
"Just an old-fashioned girl," Eve said under her breath.
"When I heard Georgie was dead, it hit hard. I gotta tell you. With Sharon it was a jolt, but not that much of a surprise. She lived on the edge. But Georgie, she was centered, you know?"
"I may need to follow up on this, Charles. Stay available."
"For you – "
"Knock it off," she ordered, before he could get cute. "What do you know about Sharon 's diaries?"
"She never let me read one," he said easily. "I used to tease her about them. Seems to me she said she'd kept them since she was a kid. You got one? Hey, am I in it?"
"Where'd she keep them?"
"In her apartment, I guess. Where else?"
That was the question, Eve mused. "If you think of anything else about Georgie or about the diaries, contact me."
"Day or night, Lieutenant Sugar. Count on me."
"Right." But she was laughing when she broke transmission.
The sun was just setting when she arrived at Roarke's. She didn't consider herself off duty. The favor she was going to ask had been simmering in her mind all day. She'd decided on it, rejected it, and generally vacillated until she'd disgusted herself.
In the end, she'd left the station for the first time in months right on the dot of the end of her shift. With what limited progress she'd made, she'd hardly needed to be there at all.
Feeney had hit nothing but a dead end in his search for a second lock box. He had, with obvious reluctance, given her the list of cops she'd requested. Eve intended to run a make on each of them – on her own time and in her own way.