Part 13 (1/2)
”You don't have a lead pipe,” Peabody pointed out.
”I'll get one.” She slid her eyes over as she drove toward the gates. ”Why do you wear something that's wrinkled all to s.h.i.+t?”
”It's the natural state of the natural fabric. My sister wove this material.”
”Well, why didn't she smooth it out or something while she was at it? And I can't believe how much time I waste these days discussing your wardrobe.”
”Yeah. It's kind of frosty.” Her smile turned to a frown as she looked down at her legs. ”Do you think these pants make my calves look fat?”
”I can't hear you because something just burst in my brain and my ears are filled with blood.”
”In that case, McNab and I will return to our rudely interrupted gooey talk.” She yipped when Eve snaked out a hand and twisted her earlobe. ”Jeez. Just checking.”
Eve considered it a testament to her astounding self-control that she didn't kill either one of them on the way to Central. To keep her record clean, she strode away from them in the garage, nabbing the elevator alone. She had no doubt they'd have to exchange sloppy words or kisses before each separated to check in with their squad.
And judging by the sleepy, satisfied look in Peabody's eye when she strolled in, Eve a.s.sumed there'd been some groping added to the lip locks.
It didn't bear thinking about.
”Briefing in fifteen,” Eve said briskly. ”I have some new data and need to skim over it. I want to bring Feeney in, if he can manage it. To pursue one angle, we're going to need a person search that goes back over fifty years.”
Peabody sobered. ”The diamonds. We're looking for one of the thieves? Aren't they all dead?”
”Records would indicate. We're looking for the ex-wife and son of Alex Crew. They went into the wind shortly after the divorce and weren't mentioned in Gannon's book. I want to know why.”
”Do you want me to contact Feeney?”
”I'll do that. You contact Gannon, schedule a meeting with her.”
”Yes, sir.”
After loading the disk Roarke had given her and getting coffee, Eve called Feeney's office in EDD.
His familiar, droopy face came on screen. ”Seventy-two,” he said before she could speak, ”and I'm outta here.”
She'd forgotten he had vacation coming up and juggled the time factor in with her other internal data. ”Got time for a person search before you clock out with your sunscreen and party hat?”
”Didn't say I wasn't on the job until. Besides, you need a person search, I can put one of my boys on it.” All his department were boys to Feeney, regardless of chromosomes.
”I'm looking for brilliance on this one, so I'm asking you to see to it personally.”
”How much b.u.t.ter you got to slather on me to grease me up for it? I've got a lot of i i's to dot before I take off.”
”It involves multiple homicides, a s.h.i.+tload of diamonds and a vanis.h.i.+ng act going back over half a century. But if you're too busy packing your hula skirt, I can order up a couple of drones.”
”Hula skirt's the wife's.” He drew air in and out his nose. ”Fifty years?”
”Plus a few. I've got a briefing down here in about ten.”
”The one you hooked McNab for?”
”That's the one.”
He pulled on his lips, scratched his chin. ”I'll be there.”
”Thanks.” She cut off, then opened Roarke's file to familiarize herself with the data. While it played, she made copies, added them to the packs she'd already put together for the team, made up another for Feeney.
And thought fondly of the days when Peabody would've done all the grunt work.
As a result, she was the last one in the conference room.
”Detective Peabody, brief Captain Feeney on the investigation to date.”
Peabody blinked. ”Huh?”
”All those things in your ears clogging your hearing? Summarize the case, Detective, and bring Captain Feeney up to speed.”
”Yes, sir.”
Her voice squeaked a bit, and she stumbled over the initial data, but Eve was pleased Peabody found her rhythm. It would be a while yet before she had the stones to lead a team, but she had a good, agile mind and, once she got past the nerves, a straightforward and cohesive method of relaying data.
”Thank you, Detective.” Eve waited while Feeney finished up making notes. ”Baxter, anything from the club on Jacobs?”
”No leads. She was a regular. Came in solo or with a date, with a group. Night in question it was solo, and that's how she left. Hit the dance floor, had some drinks, chatted up a couple guys. Bartender knows she left alone because she talked to him over the last drink. Told him she was in a dry spell. n.o.body she met lately did it for her. We got some names, and we'll check them out today, but it looks like a bust.”
”Well, tie it up. Pursuant to the information gathered re Cobb, I flashed her picture around the restaurant Ciprioni's, where it's believed she had a date with the man we know as Bobby Smith.”
”You went to Ciprioni's?” Peabody exclaimed.
”I needed to eat, I needed to follow up the lead. Two birds.”
”Other people like Italian food,” Peabody whined.
Eve ignored her. ”I found the waitress who had their table in July. She remembers Cobb, and I've set her up with a police artist to try to jog her memory a little more on her description of Cobb's date. We can check the museums, galleries, theaters we believe they visited. Somebody might remember them.”
”We'll take it,” Baxter told her. ”We've knocked down a few already.”
”Good. Now that the media's announced the possible connection between these murders, our quarry is aware, almost certainly aware, we've made the link and are investigating concurrently. I don't see this as a deterrent to the investigation.”
She waited a beat. ”In your packs you'll find data relating to Alex Crew, one of the diamond thieves, and the only one of the four who demonstrated violent behavior. My source related that Crew had an ex-wife and a son. Both of these individuals vanished between the divorce and the heist. I want to find them.”
”Crew might have killed them,” Peabody suggested.
”Yes, I've considered that. He didn't have any problem killing one of his partners, or attempting murder on another partner's daughter. He'd done some time previously and was suspected of other crimes. He was into the life. Killing an ex wouldn't have been beyond his pathology. Neither would harming or killing a child. His child.”
Fathers did, she thought. Fathers could be monsters as easily as anyone else.