Apprentice in Death (24 page)

“Peabody, see how many cute photos of the kid you can come up with. Birthdays, Christmas, like that. Baby shots. They had a puppy, right? Puppy shots.”

“Got it.”

“Make him look at them,” Mira said when Peabody hurried out. “The innocence, the sweetness. Remind him that child shares blood with his. It will matter, I believe, that his child plots to kill her own blood. The mother, perhaps not. She's an adult who made choices Mackie disagrees with, choices he resents. But the child has no choice. Just as his son, if he'd come to be, would have none.”

“And would have shared her blood. I got it.”

“Your color's better,” Mira noted.

“Yeah? Roarke boost.”

“Is that a euphemism? When would you have had the time?”

“I just—no, jeez.” Amused, appalled, Eve held up the go-cup. “Booster. Roarke-supplied booster. He probably arranged some for half the cops in here while he was at it.”

Trying not to think of Mira thinking about her having sex, Eve shifted gears. “How come you're not wearing a suit and ankle breakers?”

“I was a bit rushed to get here this morning. And it's Saturday. I don't have formal office hours on Saturday.”

“Saturday.” When did it get to be Saturday? “Oh.”

“Recharge.” Mira patted Eve's shoulder. “I'll be back in Observation when you start again.” Mira paused at the door. “There are cracks forming. And you've shaken his lawyer as well.”

“If they didn't have the break coming, I could've widened the cracks. Now they have time to shore them up, steady up. But I'll get there.”

She'd get there, Eve thought, and prepared for the next round.

—

S
he recharged. Maybe it was the break, maybe it was the booster, but her mind cleared, her energy lifted. Before tackling Mackie again, she checked in with Baxter.

“Yo, Dallas. The bus driver remembered her—or remembered a ‘youth' getting on loaded down with the bags the previous wit described. It's looking like she went straight to the flop she used to hit Madison Square. Me and my boy, we're following up with buses on that line. I got a little tingle going.”

“Make it happen. I'm going back at Mackie. If he lets anything through the cracks, I'll point you.”

“Make it happen.”

Yeah, she thought as she pushed away from her desk. They'd make it happen. She had a little tingle of her own going.

When she walked into the bullpen, she saw Peabody talking to a civilian.

“Lieutenant, this is Aaron Taylor. He attended last night's concert with Jonah Rothstein.”

“I was—we were—I heard that . . . Are you sure Jonah's . . .”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Taylor.”

Eve's words had him covering his face with his hands. “I don't understand. I don't know how this could . . .”

Peabody popped up, dragged over a chair. “Sit down, Mr. Taylor.”

“I don't know what to do. I went out the other way—it's closer to where I live. We had Orchestra seats, man. Jonah scored them back in November. We . . .”

“You and Mr. Rothstein were friends,” Eve prompted.

“Since high school. We came to New York together, roomed together until I got married. He's my best friend. I just . . .”

“You went to the concert together,” Eve prompted.

“Yeah. Yeah. He's been bragging about scoring those prime seats all over his social media. It's all he talked about for weeks now. We went together, and . . . I went out the other way after.”

“He talked about his plans for last night on social media?”

“He had a countdown going.” Aaron pressed his fingers to his eyes, pressing at the tears that swam in them. “We're big Avenue A fans. Jonah's the biggest there is, since we were in college. He worked his schedule around the concert—he had out-of-town meetings all week, but he worked it so he'd be back for last night. He was saying, kept saying: ‘Dude, did you ever think back all those times we sat in the nosebleeds to see Avenue A, to see Jake Kincade, we'd be here. Orchestra seats, Madison Square.' I went out the other exit. He said, ‘Let's go have a drink,' but I needed to get home. He was going to come over tonight. He's supposed to come over tonight, but he went out one way, and I went out the other.”

“Mr. Taylor . . . Aaron,” Eve amended, studying his devastated face. “There's no sense in it, no reason. I want to ask you if Jonah ever talked to you about his work.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Like a sounding board. We went to law school together. I'm in tax law.”

“Did he ever talk to you about Reginald Mackie?”

“The guy who's been all over the screen? With the kid? The guy who's doing this shit.” The threat of tears dried up in shock. “You saying Jonah knew him?”

“He never mentioned Mackie to you?”

“He wouldn't have given me names. He might give me an anecdote, right? A funny story. Or blasted off some, but without naming the client. We're like brothers, you know what I'm saying, but he wouldn't have shared any privileged information.”

“Okay, but did he talk to you about a client who wanted to sue others for the death of his wife? She'd run into the street, was hit by a vehicle. She was pregnant.”

“I . . . I—I remember something about that. Is that why he's dead?” Leading with fury now, Aaron shoved up from the chair. “Is that the reason? He tried to
help
that asshole. He did it pro bono because he felt for him. His own time. Mostly did it because the poor bastard didn't have a case. She ran into the street, into traffic. People saw her. Jonah talked to all of them, even did background—on his own time. And when Jonah had to tell him there was nothing he could do, the fucker went off on him. And the kid . . . He tried to help them, his own time, his own dime. He's a good guy, do you get that? Jonah's one of the good ones.”

“I get that. What about the kid?”

“The . . . Jonah told me how the guy—that's this Mackie, right? He said the guy was a wreck. Pushing for some sort of closure, somebody to blame—even the doctor because the appointment ran late, and yeah, the wife's supervisor at work. Everybody was to blame but the person who ran into the street, you know?”

“Yes, I do. The kid, Aaron.”

“He said she was scary—that's what he said. How she came up to him a couple weeks after he told Mackie he couldn't help him, after he tried to steer Mackie into rehab and counseling because he said the guy was on something for sure. The kid came up to him when Jonah was grabbing some takeout on the way home. She came right up to him, said she bet he figured everybody died, so what's the big. How he'd find out just how big. How it was too bad he didn't have a wife because somebody might give her a reason to run out into the street. How maybe somebody would give him one, showed him a stunner, what looked like a stunner she had in her pocket. Spooked him.”

“He didn't report the threat? Or the weapon?”

“Jewel—my wife—she pushed him to do just that, but he said the kid was like thirteen or fourteen, whatever. Just mouthing off, and he figured the stunner was a toy, a fake. But it spooked him. I know all the
lawyer jokes, right? But Jonah, he really believed in the best of people. He really believed they needed somebody to stand up for them. With this guy, there was nothing to stand on, but he tried. Now he's dead.”

“Now we're standing for him. I promise you, I'm standing for him. You've helped us by coming in. You've helped him.”

“Can I see him? Is there somewhere I can go to see him? His parents—we were sleeping in, me and Jewel. We didn't even know until his dad . . . They're coming in from Florida. They do the winter in Florida thing, and they're coming, but . . . Can I see him?”

“Detective Peabody, would you arrange that, and for Aaron to be taken to see his friend, then taken home?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He really believed in justice.”

“So do I,” Eve said, and moved off to where she'd seen Lowenbaum waiting.

“I caught some of that, didn't want to break in.”

“Just one more reason to crack Mackie, and to hunt down his psycho daughter.”

“I wanted to ask if I can get in on the next round, if I can help you interview Mac.”

She'd expected this, and drew him out in the corridor to answer.

“I'd want the same in your place, and I may ask you. But he's going to see you as his lieutenant, and that muddies this. You made rank, and you had to nudge him out.”

“I get it, but I just—”

“Lowenbaum, if he'd managed to complete this mission of his, I don't think he'd have headed off to Alaska. Or if he did, he wouldn't have stayed there. It wouldn't have given him what he needed, he wouldn't have felt finished. He'd still have all that inside him. And he'd make a new list. Your name would be on that list.”

She waited a beat. “You've already concluded the same.”

“Yeah.” Lowenbaum looked down the corridor, looked at nothing. “Yeah, I concluded the same. My name, the ex's husband, Patroni, probably more. But he's not there yet.”

“Sure of that?”

After a moment, Lowenbaum shook his head. “Nah, nowhere near sure of that. It's just . . .”

“Hard to sit back, but I've got to ask you to. Observe, and if you observe anything that can help me, give me a signal.”

“You're right. I know you're right.” Accepting that, Lowenbaum heaved out a breath. “Okay. Push the kid, the half brother. He was still pissed about the ex—a lot of people stay pissed about exes for the rest of their lives—but he liked the kid. I heard him say Will and Zach were the only things Zoe ever did to add to the world. Dragged Willow to a couple of the little guy's school deals—plays and concerts—because he thought it was important she participate in the kid's life.”

“Good. Good to know. I'll use it.” She waited while a couple of uniforms came out with Aaron, guided him to the elevator. “More ammo,” she stated, then gestured to Peabody. “Sit tight, Lowenbaum. Stay close.”

“You've got that.”

—

S
he took a moment in Observation herself, just to gauge the ground. The lawyer spoke, tense and intense by her measure, while Mackie stared straight ahead, face set in stone.

Pissed, she thought. Good, good. Stay pissed.

And his hands shook. However tightly he gripped them together, she saw the tremors had increased. He'd need another medically approved hit very soon.

She nodded to Peabody. “Let's start the clock.”

When she walked back in, Pratt sat back, stayed quiet.

“Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve; Peabody, Detective Delia, resuming Interview with Mackie, Reginald, and counsel.” She sat again, dropped files on the table. “So, where were we?”

“I restate my request for my client to be returned to the hospital for medical evaluation.”

“And I restate my ‘bullshit' for reasons already on record.”

“Rothstein is dead.” Mackie looked into Eve's eyes. “I had him check during the break. I knew she didn't miss.”

“Correct. The man who tried to help you, pro bono, who spent his own time, without fee, to take your bullshit case is dead, by your daughter's hand, and through your conspiracy.”

“He did nothing but toe the line, and cover up what really happened.”

“My client can't be held responsible for your allegations against his minor child,” the lawyer began.

“Did they neglect to explain the term
conspiracy
in your law school, Pratt? Your client—that's you, Mackie—has confessed, on record, to conspiring to murder, to being an accessory to the murder of twenty-five people to date.”

“My client was hospitalized and in police custody during the incident at Madison Square, therefore—”

“Please, stop wasting time. Plotted and planned and on record. I don't give a rat's ass if he was in Argentina last night. He's as guilty as she is. Just like he's just as guilty if she attempts to complete the names on your client's list. And the names on her own list.”

“She doesn't have her own list. You're lying. Just another lie.”

“Like you don't know about it,” Peabody said in disgust. “You're her father. You know what she's planning. You started it.”

“There we disagree.” Eve shrugged at Peabody. “I don't think he knew. Not about her hit list. Not that she had her own mission. Just like I don't think he knew she confronted some of the names on his list, like Rothstein for instance. Threatened them on her own, flashed a stunner. That's
not good strategy, and he's got enough training, even with the funk, not to make a boneheaded move like that.”

“You're lying again. Just like you lied about her missing Rothstein.”

“Don't have to this time. I've got her list right here.” Eve opened the file, but paused before taking out the document. “Oh, we know she travels on foot or by bus. We've got some bus drivers who remember her. The girl makes an impression.”

Eve took out the list, pushed it across the table. “She didn't bother using initials. Full names for her, since she didn't figure anyone would bother to check the little brother's comp and find where she'd hidden it.”

“You put this together.” After barely a glance, Mackie shoved the hard copy aside. “This isn't hers.”

“Oh, part of you, the part under the funk, knows it's hers. It's what she is. Part of you knew what she was, and needed it. Your eyes, your hands, and a mind and heart as black as midnight. Maybe seeing that in someone who came from you was another reason you hit the funk. It blurs the hard parts.”

“Just more lies. You want me to believe Will would hurt her own mother, her little brother? Try again.”

“I note you don't say anything about the stepfather, the school employees, but we'll slide there for now.” She took out the photos of Zach Stuben that Peabody had dug up.