Judgment in Death (7 page)

"Fuck you. There's your answer."

"Mills," Martinez murmured. "Take it down."

"And fuck that, too." He rounded on her. His fists were clenched, and the blood had surged to his face. "Goddamn skirts don't belong on the job anyway. You go ahead and play with Whitney's pet cunt, Martinez, and see where it gets you. No cop turns on another, no matter what he was, and gets by me."

With a last vicious look at Eve, he stalked out.

Martinez cleared her throat, scratched her head. "The lieutenant has a problem working with women and minorities."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. So you shouldn't take it more personal than that. Look, the Ricker deal was mine, and Kohli was a straight arrow. That's one of the reasons I tagged him for some of the drone work. I don't like your question either, but I figure it's like you said. It had to be asked. Kohli may not have been one to go the extra mile, but he respected his badge. He liked being a cop, standing for the law and order thing. I can't see him going on the take, Lieutenant. Just doesn't fit."

It depended, Eve thought, on where you put the pieces. "What did Mills mean, no matter what he was."

"On Kohli?" Her eyes sparkled with what might have been humor or temper. "Meaning Kohli was black. Mills is of the opinion the only real cop is male and white and hetero. Personality-wise, Mills is pretty much a flaming asshole."

Eve waited until Martinez left. "You get all that, Peabody?"

"Yes, sir."

"Record off. Make a copy for my file, keep the other under wraps. Walk Roarke through the place so he can get his damage report. You've got fifteen minutes," she told him. "Then you're out, and the place is sealed until I say different."

"She's lovely when she's annoyed, isn't she, Peabody?"

"I've always thought so."

"Fourteen minutes," Eve warned. "And counting."

"Why don't we start at the top?" He offered Peabody his arm. "And work our way down."

When they were out of earshot, she pulled out her communicator and called Feeney in the Electronic Detective Division. "I need a favor," she said the minute his worn and weary face floated on-screen.

"If it ties to the cop killing, we won't count it. Every man in my unit'll put in whatever time you need on it. Son of a bitch thinks he can get off with doing a cop like that, he's gonna find out different, and the hard way."

Eve waited until he'd run down. "Switch this transmission to privacy mode, would you?"

Feeney frowned but made the switch and slipped on his headset. "What's the deal?"

"You're not going to like it. Let's clear that up front so you don't have to give me grief on it. I need you to run two cops for me. Lieutenant Alan Mills and Detective Julianna Martinez, both in Illegals out of the One twenty-eight."

"I don't like it."

"I need a quiet run, Feeney. I don't want any flags going up."

His already mournful face dropped into sags. "I especially don't like it."

"I'm sorry to ask. I'd do it myself, but you can do it faster and quieter." She glanced up to where Roarke and Peabody walked along the top level. "I don't like it either, but I've got to open the door before I can close it."

Though he was alone in his office, Feeney lowered his voice. "You just looking, Dallas, or are you looking for dirt?"

"I can't fill you in now, but I've got too many connections to ignore. Do this for me, Feeney, and when it's done, let me know. We'll hook up somewhere, and I'll bring you up to date."

"I know Mills. He's an asshole."

"Yeah, I've had the pleasure."

"But I can't see him dirty, Dallas."

"That's the problem, isn't it? We never want to see it."

She pocketed the communicator, righted a bar stool, and sat. In her notebook she began listing names, putting Kohli's in the center with arrows out to Ricker, connecting his with Mills and theirs with Martinez. She added Roth, curving a line to all, then in the bottom corner she added Webster. IAB.

She arrowed his to Kohli and wondered if she would be connecting him to anyone else before it was done.

Then, because it had to be done, she added Roarke, hooked him to Kohli and to Ricker. And hoped to God that would be the end of it.

Death, she thought, left a picture, told a story, from both the victim's and the killer's point of view. The scene itself, the body, the method, time and place, what was left behind, what was taken away. They were all part of the story.

Illegals, she thought, continuing to scribble in her book. Blood on the shield. Overkill. Strippers. Missing security discs. Vice. Sex? Money. Thirty credit chips.

She continued to make notes, frown over them as Roarke and Peabody worked their way back to her. "Why the credit chips?" she asked out loud. "Because he died for money? Not to make it look like a robbery. Another symbol? Blood money. Why thirty chips?"

"Thirty pieces of silver," Roarke said, watching Eve's blank stare. "Your state education, Lieutenant, wouldn't have included Bible study. Judas was paid thirty pieces of silver for betraying Christ."

"Thirty pieces of silver." It clicked with her, and she nodded as she pushed to her feet. "We can figure Kohli stands for Judas. But who's standing as Jesus?" She scanned the scene one last time. "Time's up," she told Roarke. "You'll want to call your ride."

"He'll be outside by now." Roarke opened the door himself, holding it. As Eve moved by him, he caught her, yanked her against him and closed his mouth warmly over hers. "Thank you for your cooperation, Lieutenant."

"Oh man, he can really kiss." Peabody all but sang it as Roarke strolled to the limo waiting at the curb. "You can tell, just by watching him do it, he's a seriously excellent kisser."

"Just stop imagining he was kissing you."

"I can't." Peabody rubbed her lips together as Eve re-sealed the door. "And I can tell you, that one's going to get me through the day and into the night."

"You've got your own men now."

"Not the same." Peabody sighed as she trudged to Eve's car. "Just nowhere near the same. Where are we going?"

"To see a stripper."

"Tell me it's a male stripper and my day is made."

"You're doomed to disappointment."

Nancie lived in an attractive prewar building on Lexington. There were window boxes spilling with flowers on several of the upper levels, and a cheerful-faced uniformed doorman gave Eve a dazzling grin when she held up her badge.

"I hope there's no trouble, Lieutenant Dallas, ma'am. If there's anything I can do, you just let me know."

"Thanks, I think we can handle it."

"I bet he makes tons in tips," Peabody commented as they entered the small, dignified lobby. "Great smile, nice butt. What else could you ask for in a doorman?"

She studied the lobby with its discreet name plaques, polished brass elevator, and attractive arrangement of spring flowers. "I never figured a place like this for a nude dancer. It's more like what you'd think of for upper-level office drones and junior execs. I wonder what she makes a year."

"Thinking of switching professions?"

"Yeah, right." Peabody snorted as they stepped onto the elevator. "Guys are lining up to see me naked. Though McNab -- "

"Don't go there. I just can't take it." Eve hurried off the elevator on six, made a beeline for apartment C. She was relieved when the door opened promptly and cut off any idea Peabody might have harbored about finishing the statement.

"Nancie Gaynor?"

"Yes."

"Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. Can we come in and speak with you?"

"Oh, sure. This is about Taj."

Nancie fit the image of the apartment. Tidy, attractive and pretty as a sunbeam. She was young, mid-twenties by Eve's estimation, and cute as a damn button with a curling mop of golden hair, doll-baby lips painted rosy pink, and huge green eyes. The buttercup-yellow skin suit she wore showed off her talent and still managed to look sweet.

She stepped back into the room on bare feet, leaving a faint trace of lilies in the air.

"I'm just sick about it," she began. "Just sick. Rue called us all yesterday to tell us." Those big eyes filled, swam like irrigated green fields. I just can't believe something like this could happen at Purgatory."

She made a helpless gesture toward a long, curving sofa covered in velvety pink fabric and an avalanche of shimmering pillows. "I guess we'd better sit down. Should I get you something, like to drink?"

"No, don't bother. Do you mind if we record this conversation, Miss Gaynor?"

"Oh. Oh. Golly." Nancie bit her pretty bottom lip, clasped her hands together between her truly spectacular breasts. "I guess not. Are you supposed to?"

"With your permission." A stripper who said golly, was all Eve could think. Just when you'd thought you'd seen it all.

"Okay, gee. I want to help if I can. But we can sit down, right? Because I guess I'm a little nervous. I've never been involved in a murder case. I was questioned once, right after I moved here from Utumwa, because my roommate, she was an LC, and she'd let her license lapse, but I'm sure it was just an oversight. Anyway, I talked to the officer in charge of the licensing committee and all. But that was different."

Eve just blinked. "Utumwa?"

"Iowa. I moved here from Iowa four years ago. I was hoping maybe to be a dancer on Broadway." She smiled a little. "I guess girls move here thinking stuff like that all the time. I'm really a pretty good dancer, but well, so are a lot of other girls, and it can be pretty expensive to live here, so I took a job in a club. It wasn't a very nice club," she confided, blinking those big eyes. "And I was getting pretty scared and discouraged and thinking maybe I should just go back to Iowa and marry Joey, but he's sort of a cluck, you know, and then Rue came in to catch my act and got me a job at this better club. It was nice, and the pay was much better, and the customers didn't paw at you. Then when Rue went to Purgatory, she took some of us with her. That's a really classy club. I just want you to know that. Nothing hinky-dink goes on there."

"Hinky-dink," Eve repeated, slightly dazed by the tumble of words and information. "I appreciate you telling me all that."

"Oh, I want to help." Nancie leaned forward, leading with her eyes. "Rue said if any of us knew anything, we should contact you. Lieutenant Eve Dallas. And that we should answer all your questions and do whatever we could, because, well, it's the right thing and you're married to Roarke. He owns Purgatory."

"I heard that somewhere."

"Oh gee, I'd answer the questions even if you weren't married to Roarke. I mean, it's my civic duty and all, and Taj was a really nice guy. He respected your privacy, you know? Even in a classy club, some of the staff can take peeks when they're not supposed to. But you could walk right in front of Taj naked as a jay, and he never looked. I mean he looked because you were right there, but he never looked. He had a wife and kids, and was a real family man."

How did you shut this one off? Eve wondered. "Miss Gaynor -- "

"Oh, you can call me Nancie."

"Fine, Nancie, you were working last night. Was a dancer named Mitzi also on?"

"Sure. We work pretty much the same schedule. Mitzi left kind of early last night. She was blue, you know, because that asshole -- excuse my French -- of a boyfriend dumped her for some sky waitress. She kept breaking down and crying in the dressing room because like, well, he was the love of her life and all and was going to marry her and buy a house in Queens. I think, or maybe it was Brooklyn, and then -- "

"Miss Gaynor."

"I guess that doesn't matter, huh?" she said with a cheery smile. "Anyway, Rue took her home. Rue's really good at taking care of us dancers. She used to be one. Maybe I should call Mitzi and see how she's doing."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that." A tangle of information it might have been, Eve thought, but it corroborated Rue MacLean's alibi. "Why don't you tell me about the last time you saw Taj."

"Okay." Nancie sat back, wiggled her butt into the cushions, and folded her hands, tidy as a schoolgirl, in her lap. "I had two shows that night, plus the two group dances, and three private performances, so I was kind of busy. On my first break, I saw Taj eating a chicken sandwich. I said, 'Hey, Taj, that looks good enough to eat.' You know, like a joke, because you make a sandwich to eat it."

"Ha," Eve managed.

"So he laughed a little and said that it was, and that his wife had made it for him. I got a soda pop, a Cherry Fizz, and said how I'd see him later because I had to go change costumes."

"Did you talk about anything else?"

"No, just his chicken sandwich. Then I went back to change, and the dressing room was a real zoo. One of the girls, that's Dottie, couldn't find her red wig, and like I told you, Mitzi -- "

"Yes, we covered Mitzi."

"Uh-huh. One of the other girls, I think it was Charmaine, was telling Mitzi how she should say good riddance, which only made Mitzi cry harder, so Wilhimena, who used to be a guy but opted for the sex change, told her to shut up. Charmaine, I mean, not Mitzi. And everybody was running around because we had a group dance coming up. So we did that, the group dance, then I had a private. I saw Taj working the bar, and I waved."

Her ears were going to start ringing in a minute. Eve was sure of it. "Was he talking to anyone in particular?"

"Not that I noticed. He had a way of working the bar so everybody had their drink and didn't get all huffy. So I did the private for this businessman from Toledo. He said it was his birthday, but sometimes they say stuff like that so you'll do extra, but Rue doesn't want any of the dancers doing extra unless they're licensed. He gave me a hundred tip anyway, then I had a turn in the spinner, that's the level that revolves. I don't really remember seeing Taj again till closing because we were pretty packed. I wanted another Cherry Fizz, and he got me one, and I sat at the bar for a little while after the place cleared out, just unwinding, sort of."

She sucked in a breath, Eve opened her mouth. But Nancie recovered first. "Oh, and Viney was sick. Um, Nester Vine. We girls call him Viney 'cause he's long and skinny. Isn't it funny how sometimes people look just like their names? Anyway, he was all pale and sweaty and kept going back to the John until Taj told him to go home and take care of himself. I was feeling a little blue because I heard how Joey got engaged to Barbie Thomas back home."