Devoted in Death

21

Eve stuffed waffles in her mouth – good choice, Peabody – while she briefed a rumpled-looking McNab and Banner. Less than thirty minutes after Peabody filled her in on John Doe, she had an outline of an op working through her mind.

Maybe John Doe had lived with his wife and three kids in an uptown penthouse apartment, and nobody noticed he’d been gone for a week.

But if her hunch hit, she’d be ready.

“McNab, contact Feeney. I want eyes, ears, heat sensors ready to roll when we get an address. Peabody, you’re on Carmichael and Santiago. They deserve to be in on this if it plays out the way we hope. I want them in body armor under soft clothes. We’ll place them once we have a location.”

She carted her plate, polishing off the waffle as she paced around her board, studied the map on screen.

“Banner, work me some probabilities on location. Factor the van, the John Doe, and the sector I’ve narrowed it to. No one’s approached the van since we found it, so they haven’t needed it. They didn’t hit any of the takeout places last night. Maybe they risked delivery due to weather, or maybe they had enough in stock, but they’ll go out soon.”

“We can figure Campbell and Mulligan are still alive,” Banner put in. “They didn’t need the van to dump bodies.”

“That’s exactly right. When we move, we move on the assumption there are two civilians in distress inside. We’ll have medicals standing by.”

She set her empty plate on the table. “Anybody without magic coats uses body armor.”

“The FBI?” Peabody said.

“Will be informed – when and if we’re on our way. I’ll go through Zweck after I talk to Whitney.” She checked the time, again, then glanced at Roarke. “You want in?”

“I believe that goes without saying.”

She grabbed her ’link at the first beep. “Morris.”

“Zed, Samuel, age twenty-eight, 251 Downing, apartment 1-A.”

“Bam. Roarke.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Data being sent now,” Morris told her.

“Have you had a chance to look at him?”

“Not thoroughly, but there are similarities in some of the wounds, particularly, the COD. And here, take a look.”

“We all will. Computer, transfer ’link image on screen.”

“The water, and the fish, compromised the body. You see the damage here.”

“That’ll put you off breakfast,” Banner muttered as a close-up of pale, mottled, torn and bloodless flesh came on screen.

“I see the damage,” Eve said, stepping closer. “And I see what looks like the side of a heart. That curve there. A fish didn’t do that.”

“Agreed. I won’t slap at Porter for missing it – overmuch. I might not have found it myself if I hadn’t been looking for it, specifically.”

Yeah, you would, Eve thought. “It’s enough. It’s what we need.”

“For what you have to do, yes. But Samuel deserves more from me. You’ll have a complete, amended report before noon. I hope you have those who did this to him before that.”

“Count on it. Thanks.”

She turned. “Roarke?”

“I’ve got it.” He continued to work his PPC. “It’s a twelve-unit building.”

“Tell me it has a basement unit.”

“It does. Give me a moment. Your gut remains reliable, Lieutenant. 1-A is a basement, one-bedroom unit, currently rented by Samuel Zed.”

“Suit up,” she ordered. “Move out.”

She had Roarke drive, the bigger version of the A-T while she read the rest of Zed’s data.

“Peabody, Zed was employed as a line cook at the Fish House. Find out why nobody noticed he hasn’t been on the line for the past several days. Mother and one sib live in Indiana, and likely don’t know he’s been missing. McNab?”

“On with Feeney now, Dallas. We’ll have it covered.”

She turned in her seat, gave Banner a straight look. “You warm enough, Deputy?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“That’s not going to last. Roarke’s going to drive by the target, and you’re going to get out. I’ve got uniforms keeping an eye out. You’ll do the same. I don’t want them taking a look outside, spotting cops. So you’re going to find a spot. Maybe you get something from a glide-cart or café – as long as you can keep the target in sight. You’re going to look like a tourist.”

“I can do that.”

“If they come out, or one does, you follow. Don’t get made, don’t get close, just keep me updated.”

“I can do that, too.”

“Peabody, tell Banner what happens if you screw up.”

Peabody smiled a cheery smile. “You find her boot up your ass.”

“You don’t want to find my boot up your ass, Banner. Keep your eyes open, and that’s it, until Santiago and Carmichael are in place. When they are, I’ll tell you where to go.”

“I’ve got enough boots of my own, and I appreciate the chance to be a part of this. I’ve got good eyes, Lieutenant.”

She decided to count on that, and brought up the vid map Roarke had sent her of the target building and its neighbors.

“We walked right by this building last night. I walked by it on my own the day before. Right by it.”

“As you can’t see through walls, walking by it was all you could do.” Roarke sent her a quick look. “There’s no time to beat yourself up,” he said, repeating her words to Peabody.

She couldn’t argue, and instead contacted the uniforms to tell them Banner would be on point.

She edged forward in her seat when Roarke turned onto Downing. Quiet street – at least at this hour. On the shabbier side but trying to hold on.

Barred windows the norm for basement and street level. Apartment 1-A of number 251 had bars and privacy screens, no exterior cam. She couldn’t make the locks from the drive-by.

“Drop Banner on the corner. Eyes, Banner, nothing but eyes.”

“That’s a big yes, sir.”

He climbed out, hunched his shoulders against the cold, then sauntered across the street in the crosswalk.

“They might make him for a cop if they look out and look close, but they sure as hell won’t mistake him for a New York cop.”

“Which is why you put him on point.”

“Which is why,” she agreed. “And because we wouldn’t be this far unless he’d stuck on Little.”

She checked the time, gauged the distance to Central and contacted Whitney.

She was still updating him when Roarke pulled into Central’s garage.

“I’m in Central now, sir, and heading up to the division. I’ll brief the team, coordinate with Captain Feeney. We’ll be in place in under an hour. I’m looking at forty minutes. I’ll contact Special Agent Zweck now to apprise him of the situation so the FBI can join us.”

“I’ll contact Zweck. At the moment this is an NYPSD op.” His tone was brisk and final. “I’ll let you know if and when that changes.”

“Yes, sir, thank you.” She ended transmission as they piled on the elevator. “Damn straight. Let’s get this on, and get it on right before federal red tape trips anything up. Roarke, you can make this elevator bypass floors, go straight to my level, right?”

“An express ride? Happy to.” He pulled out his PPC, went to work.

Seconds later, Peabody said, “Whee!” as they zipped straight up.

Eve was off and striding to Homicide the second the doors opened.

“McNab, use our single and rarely reliable wall screen in the bull pen. I don’t have time to fight for a conference room.” She turned into the bull pen. “Get the vid map up. Carmichael, Santiago, front and center.”

She hesitated a moment when she spotted Carmichael’s sapphire-blue cowboy boots with jewel-colored studs running down the sides. “Are you serious?”

“Sheepskin lined, Dallas. Warm as it gets. You said soft clothes. Santiago bought a hat.”

His lip actually curled. “I’m not wearing it.”

“Not on an op, but on the job, five full days. He lost a bet.”

He shook his head sadly at Eve. “I didn’t learn from my mistakes, and now have to pay the price.”

“Pay it later. Target’s the basement apartment, 251. We believe the two vics are still alive in there. Banner is currently on point, on location. We have four uniforms, here, here.” She used the laser pointer. “Two with eyes on the rear exit, here. The rear exit is an escape window, backed by a short alley to Bedford.”

She highlighted it with her pointer.

“According to our expert consultant, civilian who accessed the blueprints, the escape window must be released from the interior to unlock the bars, then lifted manually. To get out, you climb up and out. An unlikely exit, but our e-team will bypass the release. You’ll take the rear, close off that escape route.”

“We got that,” Santiago said.

“Medicals will be on tap, Seventh and West Houston. EDD will have its van at the end of the block, east side. We’re after four heat sources, two suspects, two victims. EDD will approach the building from the east, get us eyes and ears, if possible.

“We go when I say go. Body armor?”

Santiago tapped his chest. “We’re geared up.”

“You’re clear to go to the location. Let Banner know when you’re there. And tag me. McNab, body armor. Roarke, can you zoom in on the target door? I want to see the locks.”

“They’re standard click/slide with dead bolt,” he told her. “Middle range. Not utter crap, but nothing fancy. Might be a riot bar on the inside, but we’ll know that once we have eyes in there.”

“We’ll take a battering ram, in the event.”

“No cam, no alarm that I can see, and none added in during building rehab some twelve years ago. They’ve a Judas hole, and that’s all.”

McNab came back wearing the black armor over his sweater of screaming red with shivering silver stripes to match, Eve supposed, his silver pants.

“EDD’s in the garage, Lieutenant.” He pranced to her in his red-and-green plaid boots. “And Feeney’s in the van.”

“Let’s move out. Roarke, you’re with Feeney. Let’s go save lives and kick ass.”

She ran it through, over and over on the drive, but she understood, too well, you couldn’t know all the angles, all the movements, until you were in it. Having two civilians, likely restrained, certainly injured, added to the issues.

Saving lives came first.

“You’re on the vics, Peabody. Once EDD verifies their location, getting to them, covering them, that’s your priority. I’m putting Uniform Carmichael with you. He’s got the most experience. Cover the vics, cover your ass, cover each other.”

“In that order?”

“Pretty much. None of the vics we’ve investigated had evidence of stun marks. But we don’t go in assuming they don’t have stunners. We know they have stickers and tools.”

She pulled up behind the EDD van. “He’s going to be more inclined to protect her than she is him. But she’s not going to go down easy. They’re a lot of stupid, but they’re wily. Don’t forget it.”

“You, either.”

They got out. Before Eve could rap on the back of the van, Roarke opened the door, held out a hand to boost her, then Peabody, in.

“Setting up for heat sources,” he told her.

Feeney worked the equipment, McNab jiggled beside him.

“Just refining coordinates. Most of that unit’s below street level.” Feeney fiddled, fooled, then rolled his shoulders.

“Got you four. Two in the northeast corner.”

“That would be the bedroom,” Roarke said, studying his PPC.

“Two more, front of the unit.”

“Living area.”

Eve hunched over Feeney’s shoulder.

“Probable suspects are still in bed. Probable victims, also horizontal, about eighteen inches between them.”

And alive, she thought. Still generating heat.

She stepped out again, to use her comm, coordinate her team, and to have the van transferred.

Roarke jumped out. “I have your eyes and ears, Lieutenant.”

She should’ve figured he’d wheedle his way out of the van and into the action.

“Set me up.” He handed her earbuds first, and another set for Peabody. “We’re on the move,” she said. “Feeney, if anything moves in there, I hear about it.”

“Hey, She-Body?”

McNab leaned out the back of the van, reached out so they did the little finger tap Eve had seen them do dozens of times.

“Back in a few,” Peabody told him.

“On approach,” Eve said as they started down the block. “Stay alert. No detectible movement inside.”

Even so, they crouched, took the last few yards at a bent jog. Weapon drawn, she went down the short steps first, sidled over to the side of the door. Peabody took the opposite side while Roarke hunkered down with the portable unit.

“Give us a few seconds here.”

Inside, Reed turned and twisted his arm from the shoulder. His broken hand throbbed so brutally with the movement he could hear the sound of it inside his head. His breath wheezed through lips so dry they bled.

He felt as if he’d been at it for days. He’d passed out from the pain a few times, but he could see, through the privacy screen, it was still daylight. Still morning, he thought.

“Jayla.” He barely recognized his own voice. “Jayla, wake up. You have to stay awake. Come on, talk to me. It’s looser, a little looser. If I can get my arm free…”

Her eyes fluttered open. “I just wanna sleep now. I wanna go to sleep.”

“You can’t. Look at me. Remember, remember, that’s what you said to me before. They’re still asleep. I’m going to get my arm out. Maybe this time I can get us out. I know I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that. You didn’t. Not you. They’re going to kill me today, just like she said. She said, ‘We’re going to kill you tomorrow,’ and I don’t want them to. I just want to sleep, and not wake up. There are angels when you sleep.”

“No. Jayla.” He twisted harder, and the pain came in white-hot bolts. They’d cut her when they’d forced him to rape her – the second time the night before, they’d cut her to add to it all. He could see her blood on the stained plastic.

She hadn’t been able to fight and cry the second time. She’d only lain there. And she hadn’t heard what the bitch had said, not all of it. She hadn’t said they were going to kill her tomorrow. She’d said they were going to make him kill her.

And that was a terror beyond the pain.

The terror rose like bile in his throat when he heard a giggle.

They were awake, and it would all start again.

Some movement from the source closest to the front window,” Eve murmured. “One of the vics is awake. And, wait… movement from the bedroom. I need to see, Roarke.”

“Nearly there.”

She stared at the screen, watched it flicker, then pop clear. A floor littered with outdoor gear. Before she could demand, Roarke began to slowly slide the eyes over.

“Hold. We’ve got eyes on the two civilians. Visual confirmation on Mulligan. He’s awake, struggling, sluggish. Visual confirmation on Campbell, who appears to be unconscious. Both are bound. She’s got blood leaking from somewhere. There’s a lot of it on the floor. No visual on suspects.”

“Ears are coming,” Roarke murmured.

“If they’re still in bed, we move in, cover the civilians. Uniform Carmichael, move in here now. Banner, move on the front.”

Roarke tied in audio. And Eve heard a giggle.

“Suspects are up, up and moving. Get the locks.”

“One second. No riot bar.” Roarke angled the portable aside, took out tools. “You’re low, as usual.”

“I’m high, you’re high. Peabody, Carmichael, you’re in behind us and cut right, get to the civilians. Banner, bring the rest in now.”

“We’re clear,” Roarke told her.

“Enter in five, four, three.” She used her fingers for the last count. And they hit the door.

The crash shook the air. Shouts, a wall of noise and movement followed it.

James, naked, held a ballpeen hammer. Parsens, wearing sexy stolen underwear, a small kitchen knife. Parsens screamed, turned to flee.

“Stop! Police!”

James hurled the hammer. Eve heard it thwack against the wall as she dodged.

“I’ve got him,” Roarke said coolly. “Why don’t you take care of the woman?”

James, wild-eyed now, charged at Roarke. Knowing her man, Eve left him to it, went after Parsens.

When Eve found the bedroom door closed and locked, she just shook her head. Rearing back she kicked once, twice, nipped away from a flying bottle when the door crashed in.

“Give it up, Ella-Loo.”

“Stay away from me, or I’ll kill you!” She swept another bottle from the floor, this time smashing it against the wall, then jabbing out with the jagged glass with one hand, the knife with the other.

“Are you kidding me with that? Do you not see the stunner in my hand?”

“I’m going to cut your face off.”

“Okay, give it a shot.”

Swinging the broken bottle over her head, swiping and jabbing with the knife, Ella-Loo leaped forward. Eve considered the stunner in that brief second, then went for the more satisfying. A left cross.

She had to pull it, a little, to avoid the knife. But not much.

She wasn’t sorry when the bitch fell back onto shattered glass and, screaming, rolled over bloody.

“Yeah, how do you like it?”

A dark part of her might have enjoyed rolling the murdering bitch right back over the glass shards, and maybe the boot that stepped down on the knife caught a couple fingers under it.

The quick, shocked yip didn’t hurt her feelings.

But the cop kicked the knife aside, and yanked the spitting, screaming woman up, shoved her facedown on the bed.

“You’re under arrest.” She slapped on restraints as Ella-Loo shrieked for Darryl. “That’s for multiple counts of murder in the first, just for starters.”

“Darryl! Darryl! Get this bitch off me!”

Eve leaned down, covered her recorder. “My man is infinitely more than the excuse for one you have. And he’s already taken Darryl down.”

She uncovered the recorder, hauled Ella-Loo up. “You have the right to remain silent, but go ahead, keep right on screaming. It’s fucking music to my ears.”

Ella-Loo whipped her head around, snapped her teeth.

“Oooh, a biter. Now I’m scared.”

As Eve dragged her toward the door, Banner rushed in.

“You got her. You okay?”

“I’m dandy, she fell on some glass, so she’ll need medical. I haven’t finished reading her her rights. Why don’t you take her, Deputy, and do that?”

“That would be my considerable pleasure, Lieutenant.”

“She’s a biter.”

He showed his own teeth. “I’ve dealt with biters in my time.”

Eve took a breath when Banner hauled Ella-Loo out, flexed her left hand a couple times, then followed.

Darryl, still naked, lay on the floor, unconscious while a uniform cuffed him. Eve glanced at Roarke.

“I’d say that was grand fun, if not for…”

Together they looked over at the wounded.

Medical worked on them while cops cut bindings, and Peabody soothed.

“Don’t let her die.” Tears streamed down Reed’s face. “Don’t let her die, please. They made me rape her. I raped her, but she stayed strong. She didn’t blame me. Don’t let her die. Her name’s Jayla. They hurt her so bad. They wouldn’t stop.”

“We know who she is.” Eve stepped over to him. “We know who you are, Reed. Nothing that happened here is your fault. Medical is going to do everything they can for her. For you.”

McNab laid a blanket over him, stepped aside for medical. They lifted Reed onto a stretcher.

“Don’t let her die.” Reed’s gaze clung to Eve’s. “Her name’s Jayla.”

She turned to one of the MTs, studied Jayla’s gray face as she did. “Will she make it?”

“Lost a lot of blood. We’re pumping it and fluids into her now.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you, but we’re about ready to get her out of here.”

“I want to be informed of her status, and Mulligan’s. I’m Lieutenant Dallas, out of Central.”

“I know who you are. Most of us do. I’ll add it to the data. Bastards sure worked her over. Take them down hard, Lieutenant.”

She planned to.

“I want this scene secured,” she called out. “I want sweepers in here. Everybody seal up, now. All records on, now. Suspects locked tight, examined and treated medically. By the book, people, every page of it.”

She walked over to Carmichael and Santiago. “The scene’s yours if you want it.”

“Then we’ve got it,” Santiago told her.

“Document everything, down to the last fleck of dust. Copy me, Whitney, Mira, Reo and Special Agent Zweck.”

Carmichael looked at the pool of blood on the plastic, the spatters of it, the smears of it on knives, hammers, screwdrivers, jags of glass.

“Sweat ’em hard, wring ’em dry.”

“Count on it.”

Eve stepped out into the cold, found it glorious after the stench. “Thanks for the assist,” she said when Roarke stepped out beside her.

“Oh, no, I’ll be seeing this one through. I shuffled some things, as I said, and I can get a bit of work done at Central. I’ll enjoy seeing you sweat ’em hard, wring ’em dry.”

“She might not make it. I could see it in the MTs’ eyes. They don’t think she’ll make it. A few hours earlier… who knows.”

“Eve.”

“I know, I know. It’s not on me, not on anybody but the two who did this to her. But she held out, with everything they did, she held out, held on. And now she might not make it.”

She rubbed her face hard.

“I need to contact her roommate.”

“I’ll do that,” Peabody said from behind her. “I’ll make the contacts for both of them, Dallas. Maybe with friends there, with family, they’ll both have a better chance. Banner and I will ride back with EDD, and I’ll make the contacts.”

“All right, good. I’ll brief Whitney – and get Mira in on this.” She blew out a breath that streamed away in a cloud. “Let’s get it done.”

She walked away from the nightmare of a dead man’s apartment – remembered they had next of kin to notify there.

“Consider my arm wrapped around you.”

“What?”

He smiled at her. “You’d object to such a gesture when cops can see you, but know it’s there, to lean on.”

“I’m okay. We caught the bad guys.”

“Peabody knew you could do with a bit of alone with me. Use it.”

“He – Reed – he’s hurt, but not as much as she is. They didn’t hurt him as much because they needed him physically able to rape. He’s going to make it, but… He might never get over what they made him do. He’s just a guy, just a regular, apparently decent enough guy, and he’ll have to live with this. They raped him, too. By forcing their will on him.”

“Mira, or someone like her, will help him understand that, and cope with it.”

“It takes a long time to cope. It takes a lot to cope with that. Some never get there.”

It put a hole in her belly remembering how close she’d been to never getting there.

“I don’t think I would have gotten there without you. I wouldn’t have gotten there, even with Mira, without you.”

“Now you’ve done it,” he murmured. “Cops or no.” He wrapped one arm around her, then the other. “You got there. We both did. And I wouldn’t change a moment of the time, good or bad, we’ve had together since I first turned and locked eyes on you. What a jolt that was through me.” He touched his lips to her brow. “I’ve never recovered.”

“Not even a minute of change?”

“Not one.”

“Because change one, change all.”

“Now you’ve remembered.”

“Okay.” She breathed deep, pulled back. “No more sloppy stuff on the street.” She strode the few paces to the van, called into Feeney. “Got their asses.”

“Now fry them up, kid.”

Roarke watched that hard grin flash on her face, and thought: There’s my cop.