“I just needed the data.”
“My data, my property.” He smiled at her. “I want to play.” He handed her a disc, then wandered over to examine the e-work with Feeney.
With the arrival of Stuben and his partner, Kohn, she made brief introductions, followed with a short overview of Penny Soto.
“We’re keeping the arrest of Juanita Turner quiet for the moment. I’d like to surprise Penny with that, once we pull her in. I’ve got the lawyer on tap. If McNab’s done his job, we’ll be able to track the transmission from here to her location and unit, and track the transmission back from her. Another lock in. We lure her here.”
She brought up the info on Roarke’s disc, scrolled through to an image of the building. “Untenanted residential unit-no civilian factor. The lawyer contacts her, relays that this property-alludes that her partner knew of it-is now added to the inheritance due to the recent death of old Mr. Ortega’s cousin. Just need some lawyer bullshit, she’s not going to question it too deep. As José Ortega is named heir, and so on, so on, she’ll be counting the profits. He’ll do his legal dance about escrow, trusts, market values, taxes, whatever. And he’ll say he’s hesitant to transmit the passcodes.
“She’ll want them, she’ll demand them. And she’ll go there as soon as she can to take a look. She’ll use them. And when she does, we’ve got her. We keep the tail on her.” She brought up the map, called for zoom and enhancement of 95th Street. “Baxter and Trueheart, stationed here and here. Soft-clothes. Detectives Stuben, Kohn, will you take this half of the duplex?”
“Happy to.”
“Peabody and I here. E-team and vehicle, here. Lure her in, scoop her up. Keep it tight in case she gets frisky. Bring her in, and lock it up all the way back to 2043. Questions?”
It took another twenty before she brought the lawyer in.
“This is what you’re going to say.” Eve handed him a printout. “You can use your own words, legal it up, but this is what gets across. Understand?”
“Not entirely. If there had been property in probate, I certainly would have informed Mr. Aldo-or, well, the person I believed to be Mr. Aldo.”
“How does she know you didn’t? Be as vague about that as you want. Lawyers are good at being vague and incomprehensible. I want her to believe she’s going to be getting this property. This duplex at this address, with a fair market value of eight point three mil. I want her to be compelled to respond, to demand more info. That’s all you have to do.”
“Well, yes, but…”
“I could go around you, Feinburg, but I don’t want her smelling even a whiff of the game. She’ll believe it’s from you, because it is from you. And she’ll believe the contents because, hey, eight point three mil. Get it done.”
“Do you do mail by keyboard or voice?” McNab asked him.
“Ah, voice.”
“Okay. Just do what you do, but don’t authorize the send. I’ll take care of it. Ãke ontAnytime,” McNab added.
“All right.” Feinburg sat, blew out a breath. He recited the recipient’s name, account name, then began the text.
Eve nodded as he spoke. Yeah, he lawyered it up, she thought, used ten words when one would do. She knew exactly what he was saying and still barely understood half of it.
She signaled McNab to send.
“What now?” Feinburg asked.
“We move the station to portable. She doesn’t have the address or the codes. She’ll want them. We’ll be in place when she gets them. Let’s move it out, set it up, take it down.”
At the duplex, Roarke let Eve and Peabody in the westernmost door. He glanced over as the two detectives entered the second. “You’re banking on her coming to this side first.”
“I want to give them a shot at taking her. But yeah, I figure she’ll come to this one first. Aren’t you assigned to the e-machine?”
“I’d sooner hang with you and Peabody.” He glanced around the short foyer, down the hall, into the room on the left. “It needs a bit of polish yet, but should be quite nice.”
“The trim’s original, isn’t it? And wow. My brother would pee his pants.”
“Gee, Peabody,” Eve began, “if you’d like a tour, why-” She broke off, pulled out her communicator. “Dallas.”
“She bit,” Feeney told her. “McNab’s ready to work the lawyer through the response.”
“Wait twenty. Let her sweat. Then give it to her. Give it all.” She contacted the other members of the team. “Now we wait,” she said. “And it won’t be long.”
The streetlights blinked on. Eve could see their glow against the dim when Baxter beeped her an hour later. “Suspect is approaching from the west, on 95th. On foot. Red shirt, black pants, black handbag. Moving fast. Your location within one minute.”
“Copy that. Maintain position. Nobody moves in until she’s inside the building. Come on in,” Eve coaxed. “Come on in.”
“Dallas, she’s at the door. You’re a go.”
“Hold positions.” Come on, bitch, she thought. She saw, from her position, the security light blink from red to green as the locks opened. She waited, holding, as Penny came in, closed the door quickly behind her.
Penny looked toward the stairs as a wild grin spread on her face. And Eve hit the lights.
“Surprise.”
“What the fuck is this?” Penny edged back toward the door.
“It’s a little party I call You’re Under Arrest-for fraud, for falsifying official documents, for utilizing forged identification, and practicing said fraud over the Internet. For accessory to murder. Multiple charges on that. And we’re just getting started.”
“This is bullshit. You’re bullshit.”
“If you try to go out that door, you’d be resisting.”
“You tried that shit before, didn’t you? Got squat.” Penny turned, whipped open the door. As Eve moved forward, she whirled back, hacked out with a knife.
It caught Eve’s sleeve, and the tip broke skin. She hacked again, and Eve merely stepped back to evade. “You tried that shit before,” Eve reminded Penny.
Behind her, Roarke put a hand on Peabody’s shoulder. “No,” he told her when Peabody reached for her weapon. “She’ll want this one on her own.”
“Jesus, you really are that stupid.” Eve drew her own weapon. “Knife. Full-power stunner. You be the judge. Drop it, or I drop you. And I’d love to.”
“I don’t need a goddamn knife to take you down, bitch.” Penny tossed it aside where it skidded across the floor. “Bitch like you needs a stunner.”
“Is that a challenge? I love a challenge. And what the hell. Roarke.” Barely glancing over, Eve tossed him her weapon. “Try me,” she invited.
Hate and excitement merged on her face as Penny charged. Eve felt the blood rush to her heart, her head. The sting of the wound in her arm focused her. She deflected Penny’s fist, but gave the woman credit for what had been behind it. She took a kick-a glancing blow on the hip-and felt the quick heat of fingernails as they swiped at her jaw.
Eve maneuvered, evaded, took a blow here, another there. And saw the violent light of pleasure in Penny’s eyes.
“You can’t fight worth shit,” Penny yelled out. “Pussy cop.”
“Oh. We were fighting? I didn’t realize we’d started. Okay then.”
And she moved in. A shorthand jab knocked Penny’s head back like a ball on a string. A roundhouse kick doubled her over when it plowed into her gut. An uppercut brought her up again. And a right cross took her down.
“That last one?” Eve bent over her as Penny lay unconscious at her feet. “That was for Quinto Turner. Get a wagon,” Eve ordered, then gave Roarke the come-ahead sign for her weapon.