Chapter 14

OUT ON THE SIDEWALK, EVE TOOK A MOMENT to think it through. “Brother Jim kicked his ass. He’d want payback there, but that’s dealing with a guy who’s likely stronger. He’d need to get in close with a weapon. But maybe snatching the fiancée. We’ll check on that. Little League coach, maybe something there since one of his weapons of choice is a baseball bat.”

“The model,” Peabody put in. “Dented ego, like with the ex-girlfriend. And she may have some money.”

“Yeah, a more likely on the scale. The schoolteacher. She cost him his summer, embarrassed him, and she’s got money. Lives alone. And she’s got e-skills, maybe the kind that can create good fake ID.”

Too many of them, she thought. He could pick any one of them out of his murderous hat.

“We check on them all.”

“All?”

“Reach out to Brooklyn, get a couple of cops to check on Dave’s brother and the fiancée—and you take the Schumakers. They’re practically around the corner. Head that way while you tag Brooklyn. I’ll get people on the rest.”

Pulling out her ’link, she hit on Jenkinson. “Re the Reinhold investigation. I need alive and well and stay that way checks. Take down these names and addresses.”

“Ready when you are, boss.”

“Marlene Wizlet,” Eve began, and ran down the list. “I want a two-man team on each, and I want a face-to-face, in-person checks. Jerald Reinhold is looking for his next target, or he’s picked one. I need these people taking precautions. Better, convince them to agree to protection.”

“All of them?”

“All of them. If they’ve heard from Reinhold, I need to know. If anything, I mean anything, in their demeanor seems off, push it. I want everyone with eyes peeled for Reinhold.”

“We’re on it, LT.”

“Report back when it’s done.”

She clicked off as Peabody came huffing back. “They’re clear—the Schumakers. They were calling in their grandson when I left. He’s retired Army. And Brooklyn’s sending a unit to check on Brother Jim and lady.”

“Good enough. We’ll take the teacher—the computer teacher. She’s close, and Jenkinson’s sending out teams on the rest.”

“Got her address here. Want to tag her first?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Eve said as they got into the car. “Let her know we’re coming.”

Older woman, Eve thought as she drove. Living alone. Easier pickings than the men, or that would be the assumption. Family money. Can’t live the good life without money.

E-instructor.

“She’s not answering.” Peabody shifted. “Straight to v-mail.”

Eve went with her gut and punched the speed. “Tag the coach and the model,” she ordered. “I want them on alert. Offer protection if they want it. And I want a probability on the names Mal and Dave gave us. We’ll work down the scale after Farnsworth.”

Still following her gut, she double-parked rather than looking for a space near the brownstone.

“Nice house. Neighbors close, but still private. It’s a good target, damn it. A really good target.”

She pushed through the little gate and hurried to the door with Peabody behind her still talking on her ’link.

She rang, she knocked. And the feeling in her gut sharpened.

“The security’s not engaged. If she went out, why isn’t the security engaged? Take the place on the left, see if they’ve seen Farnsworth. I’ll take the right.”

Eve jogged to the neighboring house, rang that bell. Moments later a female voice spoke briskly through the intercom.

“Can I help you?”

“Ma’am, I’m the police.” Eve held her badge up for the scan. “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. I’m looking for your neighbor. Ms. Farnsworth?”

The door opened. The woman sported a messy brown ponytail and bold red sweats with thick striped socks on her feet. As she studied Eve out of sleepy eyes, she shifted a bundle wrapped in a blue blanket from one arm to the other.

It took Eve a moment after hearing the mewling sounds to identify a baby.

“Why are you looking for her?”

“I need to speak with her on a matter. She doesn’t answer her door or her ’link. Can you tell me when you last saw her?”

“I guess it was last night. I got up to feed Colin, and she was out walking Snuffy.”

“Snuffy?”

“Her dog. She got a sweet little dog. I noticed her leaving the house with Snuffy, about eleven last night.”

“You haven’t seen her today?”

“Now that you mention it, I guess not. But Brad took the morning feeding—when she’d have walked the dog again. Wait a minute.” She stepped back, turned her head. “Brad!”

Eve heard a thud, a distinct “OW!” The woman laughed. “He fell off the couch,” she told Eve. “Colin’s almost three weeks old. And it’s been almost three weeks since either of us got any real sleep. We’re on parental leave.”

The man came out to join the woman. He looked rumpled, glassy-eyed, and rubbed his elbow. “What is it?”

“It’s the police. They’re looking for Ms. Farnsworth.”

“Why?”

“I need to speak with her,” Eve put in. “Have you seen her today?”

“I’m lucky to see period.” He rubbed at his eyes. “No, I guess not. Wasn’t she supposed to come by with that soup?”

“Was that today?” The woman swayed side to side as what was in the blue blanket made piping sounds. “I guess it was, they blur. She was going to bring us soup, her grandmother’s recipe. She’s been sweet about checking on us and Colin, even picking up things at the market, or having her droid check in to see if we need anything.”

“I think I saw her droid.”

Eve shifted attention to the new father. “Her droid?”

“Yeah, I was out a little while ago, just a walk, some fresh air. I think I saw her droid up the block, carrying some of the electronics. She’s got a load of them, used to teach Comp Science.”

“Is something wrong?” the woman asked.

“Stay inside.”

Eve bolted back just as Peabody stepped away from the neighbor on the other side.

“They haven’t seen her all day,” Peabody began. “She’s got a dog, and walks it regularly, but today... shit,” Peabody finished when Eve whipped out her master.

“She’s got a droid. Neighbor spotted it carting electronics away. Record on.”

“Shit,” Peabody said again, drew her weapon.

They went through the door, Peabody right, Eve left.

“Ms. Farnsworth,” Eve called out as she moved through the first floor, clearing. “This is the police.”

She saw spaces on shelves and tables where the lack of balance told her something might have stood. She saw the destruction in the kitchen. And not a single comp or ’link on the first floor.

She knew, head and gut, before they started upstairs, she knew they were too late.

She smelled the urine, and the death, motioned Peabody to take the right again as they topped the stairs. She went left and into the home office.

Barely cold, she thought as she checked the body. Another mean, ugly death, with her swimming in its wake.

Then she put it aside, straightened.

“We got a body,” she called out, and pulled out her comm to call it in.

“Second floor’s clear, except for...” Peabody walked in, carrying a whimpering bundle. For a stunned instant Eve thought it was another baby.

“What the hell?”

“He was under the bed. I heard him crying when I went in to clear. And there was this little blanket, so I wrapped him up. He’s hurt, Dallas. I don’t know how bad.”

“However bad, she’s worse.”

“It’s her little dog. The neighbor said she walked Snuffy several times a day, but not today.”

“No, she won’t be walking Snuffy anymore. We need field kits. I called it in.”

“I’ll get them, but we have to do something for Snuffy.”

Eve dragged a hand through her hair. She saw the dog clearly enough now, and pain in its soft brown eyes. “What?”

“I’ll see if I can tag a vet while I’m getting the kits. He’s really hurt. Okay, Snuffy,” Peabody crooned as she walked away. “We’re going to take care of you. It’s okay.”

On a sigh, Eve turned back to the body. “I guess that leaves you and me. Victim is Caucasian female,” she began for the record.

She glanced over when Peabody came back with the kits. “What did you do with the dog?”

“The father next door—the house you took—he came out when he saw me. He knows the vet. It’s only a couple blocks away, so he took Snuffy and he’s running him there right now.”

They sealed up.

“Take this floor first,” Eve told her. “Nobody saw her today, so it’s likely he got in last night after she walked the dog. He probably put a lot of hours in here. He slept somewhere. Let’s see if he left anything behind. And see if you can find the droid. I didn’t see one when we cleared.”

Eve confirmed ID for the record, took out her gauges for time of death. Forty-three minutes, she noted. She’d been less than an hour behind him.

“He had you all night, most of the day,” she murmured. “Bashed you first, didn’t he?” She checked the back of the head through the plastic, studied the wound, the dried blood. “That’s his way. Walking your dog. Just taking your dog out before bed. He was waiting for you—like his father, like his ex. You come back, open the door, and he attacks from behind. Then he’s inside in seconds, and can take his time. What did he do, kick the dog, heave it, use it for a little batting practice?”

She examined the body as she spoke. “Hauled you upstairs. There’s a reason for that. You’re a big woman, and why cart you all the way up here? Office equipment. This is your office—desk, chair, small couch. Computer Science teacher. You probably had good equipment.”

She examined the blood, the skin tears on the wrists and arms, the ankles. “You tried. Looks like you tried pretty damn hard. Kept you alive all that time, so he had a use for you.”

“Dallas? It looks like he used her bedroom. I checked the recycler in the bath, and I can see some of the packaging, the stuff he bought. Hair product, skin product. Some hair, too. He cut his hair.”

“Okay.”

“Uniforms are here.”

“Give them a copy of the morph for the canvass. I want them to show his ID shot and the morph.”

Peabody nodded. “Do you think he pushed her over like that? Maybe she fell over, struggling.”

“Hard to say, but she sure as hell didn’t just sit and take it. She ripped skin off trying to get out of the tape.”

“The neighbors I talked to like her. You could tell.” Peabody drew in a breath. “There’s no droid up here. I still have to go over the main floor, but I didn’t see one down there either.”

“He kept it. Handy to have a droid. Clean up after him, run errands. He’d like that. Let’s find out what she had, get a BOLO out there, too.”

“On it. He could come back, Dallas. It’s a nice place, a big house. It’d make a good base.”

“Neighbors. They’d have started asking questions in another day or two. About her, the dog. Or she’d have an appointment. He got what he wanted here.”

Face grim, Peabody looked down at the body. “Because she flunked him in Computer Science. In high school.”

“Because she pissed him off. It’s all he needs now. And money. Get the uniforms started.”

Eve pulled out her ’link.

Feeney said, “Yo.”

“I got another DB. Computer Science teacher, retired.”

“What? He get a D?”

“She flunked him, so he paid her back by smothering her with a plastic bag after keeping her tied and taped to a chair for about eighteen hours. And bashing up her little dog.”

“Fucker.”

“Yeah, he is. She’s supposed to have a lot of nice equipment, but he cleaned her out.”

Feeney’s already droopy face drooped further. “Can’t help you if I don’t have the toys.”

“I’m going to do a search to find out what she had, but, meanwhile, she’s supposed to have some nice scratch. He’d want it.”

“You want me to look for the money? No problem.”

“He knows we’ll find her sooner or later, knows we know who he is. She’d know some tricks, right? Bouncing money around, tucking it away.”

“If she was any good at her job, she’d know the ins, the outs.”

“She was good at her job. If he got her to pull out the money, transfer it, he’d make her cover the tracks.” She looked down at the torn skin, the raw bruising. “But she wasn’t a pushover. Maybe there are tricks in the tricks. So, it takes an e-man.”

“I happen to be one. Give me the data you’ve got.”

“Farnsworth,” Eve began, “Edie Barrett.”

···

When she finished with the body, she started on the room.

She believed he’d spent considerable time in there, forcing Farnsworth to drain her accounts. And wouldn’t she be the perfect source for a new ID? A veteran e-teacher.

Eve closed her eyes a moment. He’d changed his appearance here—hair, skin tone, eyes. He’d waited until he’d come here.

“He’d already planned this next move.” She turned as Peabody stepped up to the door again. “He probably came here straight from the ex’s. The timing works well enough with the last sighting of his vic. He had what he needed in the duffel. Tape, rope, knife, bat, clothes, the products. Kill the ex, come here, use Farnsworth not only for the next kill, but as his vehicle for a new ID, more money.”

“This place is worth a nice bundle,” Peabody commented. “How much did she have?”

Eve’s ’link signaled, and she read Feeney on her display. “Tell you in a minute. Dallas.”

“Your vic had nearly four mil not including real property, jewelry, art, and like that.”

“Damn it. He’s rolling now.”

“Every account she had I found on a quick search was emptied as of today.”

“You’re not going to make my day and tell me by a simple transfer.”

“No can do. Some fancy fingerwork, but we’ll find it. Just giving you a heads-up.”

“Appreciate it. He hit the jackpot,” she said to Peabody when she clicked off. “And he was smart enough to make it complicated. We’re going to stick with she was smarter, and we’re smarter. But right now, he’s feeling rich.”

“He could rabbit with that much money.”

“I don’t think so.” Enjoying it too much, she thought. Batting a thousand so far. “More scores to settle. He’s still going to want money. Why quit when you’re ahead? But that won’t be as urgent. He may do the next without that as a particular factor.”

“It’s a long list, Dallas.”

“We’re going to contact every name on it, and we’re going to ask everyone we contact if they know of anyone else we should add on. If any of them wants protection, we’ll put a cop on them. I’ll find it in the budget.”

“He had a tantrum down in the kitchen, at least it looks like one.”

“Yeah, I saw.”

“It’s mean when you really look at it. Broken dishes, gouged counters and appliances, glassware shattered, food tossed around. Something pissed him off.”

She took one last look at the body. “I hope it was her. He wanted her to suffer. He learned the perks of that with the ex. That’s part of the fun, the power, the payback. He kept her alive the longest. He’d want to keep the next one alive so he can enjoy himself.”

She started out just as a uniform started up the stairs. “Lieutenant? We’ve got a wit outside says he saw a man fitting the morph description.”

“I’ll take him.”

“Yes, sir. And the sweepers just pulled up.”

“We’re ready for them.”

She stepped outside where between her vehicle, the black-and-white, and the sweeper’s van they’d screwed traffic to hell and back.

Eve ignored the blasting horns, the enthusiastic cursing, and homed in on a boy of about sixteen in a fake leather jacket, high-step airboots, and a mop of brown hair shaved high on one side to show off the cluster of silver studs along his ear canal.

Didn’t it hurt, she wondered, to get holes punched there?

“Lieutenant Dallas. Your name?”

“X.”

“Your name’s X.”

“It’s like Xavier. Xavier Paque. I’m X.”

“Okay, X. You saw this man?”

The kid glanced at the morph again, bopped his shoulders up and down twice. “Yeah, hey. So I live, like, over there.” He gestured across the street. “Just riding my board back up from the mart. Went for a fizz and a pop, and I saw the dude over here, gimping along with a couple of rollies.”

“He limped?”

“Yeah, hey, you know.” The boy demonstrated, hobbling some. “Looked peeved, got it? But nice, tight threads.”

“Describe said threads.”

“Good jacket, looked like real cow. Mostly that’s what I noticed, and the gimping. Maybe nice boots.” He screwed up his face in thought. “Yeah, nice boots. Cow, too, I bet, so he had some. The one rolly was mag—duffel style, sharp. But the other? Been around. Pretty dumpy, and man, it was red. Bogus for a dude. Wrap shades. Had some, busted them. Bummed.”

“Limping, tight threads, and pulling a rolling duffel and a red suitcase.”

“Yeah, big red rolly.”

“How about his hair? Long, short, color?”

Now the boy scratched his head. “Short. Not you short, but not me long. Blondie, I think. Maybe he had a patch.” The thoughtful face again. “Maybe a patch,” he said, tapping his chin. “I only took the good look because his jacket was fine, and he’s gimping along with the rollies like he’s hurting bad.”

“Heading west?”

“Yeah, that way.” X’s eyes shifted to the Farnsworth house. “Something wrong with Ms. F?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what?”

Word would spread, and quickly. No point, she decided, in evading. “She’s dead. We suspect the man you saw is responsible.”

In a fingersnap he went from frosty teen to stunned boy. His eyes filled, the sheen of tears, the gleam of shock. “Come on, no, man. Fuck that. No way.”

“I’m sorry. You knew her?”

“Ms. F? This is sick bad. Ms. F? She’s up, you know? She helps me with my e-shit for school. It’s not my thing, but she helps me out. That gimp bastard did her? I’da stopped him. I’da done something.”

“You have. Talking to me, telling me what you saw, it’s going to help us find him.”

“Where’s her dog? Where’s the Snuff-man?”

“He’s at the vet,” Peabody told him.

“Is he hurt? Man, more sick bad. She freaking loves that dog.”

“They’re taking care of him.”

“I want to go talk to my mom. I want to go home.”

“Go ahead.” Eve dug out a card. “If you think of anything else, you contact me.”

“She never hurt anybody. It’s not right. She never hurt anybody.” He stuffed Eve’s card in his pocket before running across the street.

“Maybe she did,” Eve said. “Maybe she managed to hurt him. Cabs, Peabody.”

“I’m already there.” Working her ’link, Peabody started back to the car with Eve.

“Officer!”

Eve stopped, waiting as the new father rushed up. “Lieutenant,” she corrected.

“Oh, sorry. They’re keeping Snuffy overnight at least. I thought you might need the name of the vet, so I had them give me a card.”

“Thanks.”

“Is... is Ms. Farnsworth really...”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

“Brad Peters. Was it a burglary?”

“Not exactly.”

“She... she was really good to us. We moved in right after Margot got pregnant. Margot’s family lives in St. Paul, so it was nice for her to have a, well, motherly type right next door. I didn’t hear anything, or see... We’re so wrapped up in the baby.”

“There was nothing you could do.”

“Can we keep the dog?”

“Ah...”

“She really loved that dog.” And like the boy, his eyes filmed with tears. “I don’t want Snuffy to end up in the shelter because there’s nobody to take him. We’ll pay the vet bills. He knows us. He likes us. They were like a unit. He’s going to miss her something fierce.”

“I’ll see what I can do. She may have relatives or an heir who’d need to sign off on that.”

“Okay. But we’ll take care of him until... He shouldn’t have to go to a shelter with strangers. He was her family.”

Eve thought of Galahad. “I’ll clear it so he can go from the vet to you, unless family claims him.”

“Thanks. I’d better go tell Margot. I don’t know how this could happen. Right next door.”

It happens everywhere, Eve thought as he walked away. Because there’s always someone like Jerry Reinhold.

“Cab,” she repeated to Peabody.

“They’re checking. A lot of pickups, so—”

“Have them cross-check with a drop-off at a clinic or health center, urgent care, ER—a medical. Closest one going west from here. Limping, hurting. Maybe he dropped something on his foot. Or maybe the vic managed to drop herself and the chair on him. I like that image.”

“Hard not to.” Peabody retagged the cab company, gave her contact the drop-off element. “Score! Pickup Varick and Laight, drop-off Church Street Urgent Care. Single passenger, two bags.”

“Let’s move.”

Maybe he’d still be there, stuck in a waiting room, cooling heels in exam. She resisted the urge to go in hot, but not the one to leapfrog through traffic until Peabody’s color dropped away.

“I might need this place,” Peabody managed as Eve, once again, double-parked.

Eve simply strode across the sidewalk, shoved inside the spacious, and unfortunately uncrowded waiting area. A crowd might have kept him hanging until treatment.

She headed straight to the receptionist on duty, held up her badge, signaled Peabody for the morph. “Is he here?”

The receptionist frowned at Eve, at the badge, at the morph. “No, but he was.”

Frustration wanted to choke her. “When did he leave?”

“Maybe an hour ago. About an hour.”

“Do you know where he was going, his mode of transportation?”

“No, he walked out the door. Why?”

“What was wrong with him?”

Now she pokered up. “I’m not allowed to share any patient’s information.”

“Name. What name?”

The receptionist checked her computer. “He signed in as John. That’s all that’s required if no insurance is involved. He paid cash.”

“I want to see his doctor. Now.”

“If you’d have a seat in chairs, I’ll see if—”

“I said now.” Eve leaned over the counter. “I just left a retired schoolteacher who’s on her way to the morgue. You treated the man who sent her there. I’m about an hour behind him, according to you. I’m not going to waste time arguing. Get the medical who treated him out here, or I go back there and make a hell of a mess.”

“Wait. Just wait.” The receptionist all but flew back, vanished around a corner. In under a minute she was back in the wake of a tall, lean Asian man with a flapping white lab coat.

“What’s all this?”

“All this is murder. This man has killed four people. I need to know why he came in, what you did, what he said. Everything.”

Without a word, he gestured her back around the same corner and into a small office with a lush potted palm near a fake window.

“The patient is a murder suspect?”

“Multiple. I need to know what name he used, his injuries, his treatment, and if he scheduled any sort of follow-up.”

“You don’t have a warrant.”

“I have four dead bodies. But we can play that way. Peabody?”

The doctor just lifted a hand, waved it. “He elected not to use his full name. Just John, and neglected to check the privacy form. So. The patient had two broken metatarsals on his right foot, along with a hairline fracture of the first cuneiform.”

He picked up a tablet, tapped, swiped. And showed Eve a diagram of a foot.

“So... A couple of broken toes, and a hairline deal on this part here, before the arch?”

“Basically, yes. There’s little you can do, other than wand, wrap, and treat for discomfort, advise the patient to rest the foot. All of which I did. He also had some minor bruising along his diaphragm. There were no internal injuries. He left—perfectly ambulatory, and with the medication in no particular discomfort.”

“No follow-up, no referral.”

“Offered and declined. He said he was traveling—and he had a couple of suitcases with him. He claimed someone had dropped a heavy case on his foot at the transpo center, then he’d tripped over it, jamming it into his diaphragm. He’d assumed the foot was just bruised, but soon decided it might be more, so came in for exam and treatment. He paid for the exam, the treatment, the meds, the wrap, and the soft cast in cash.”

“How long before it heals?”

“It depends. With daily wand treatments, rest, he could be fine in a matter of days. Without the follow-ups, a couple of weeks. The first treatment is the most intense.”

“Yeah, been there. If he comes back, decides to do another treatment, contact me. Don’t let him know, just keep him waiting, or draw the treatment out. He’s violent, he’s dangerous, and he won’t hesitate to kill.”

“Then I’ll hope he doesn’t. We often have children in here.”

“Just give him a seat, tell him to wait his turn, and tag me. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The minute she walked outside, Eve strode over, kicked her own tire. “Crap! He just has to luck into a fast, efficient medical. He couldn’t get bogged down with hackers and bleeders and pukers for an hour.”

She kicked the tire again, then walked around to the driver’s door, sliding behind the wheel to a cacophony of horns.

“Cab,” she said yet again to Peabody.

“Already on it.”