Treachery in Death

Twelve

WEBSTER CLICKED OFF THE ’ LINK HE’D PUT ON privacy mode and looked across the table where he’d been enjoying a late lunch. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s not a problem.” Darcia smiled at him. “Do you have to go?”

“Soon.” He reached over, took her hand. “I’d rather stay.”

“There’s tonight. If you’re free, and interested.”

“I’m both. What would you like to do?”

“I happen to have two orchestra seats for a play—a musical. Broadway musical is on my New York checklist.” She lifted the glass of champagne she’d indulged in. “You weren’t. But I made an addendum.”

“Luckiest day of my life.” He was still riding on the thrill of it. “If I were to visit Olympus, what should I put on my checklist?”

“Hmmm, drinks rooftop of the Apollo Tower. The view is stunning. Horseback riding along Athena Lake, with a picnic in its young forest. Me. Will you visit Olympus?”

“Will you have drinks with me on the rooftop, ride with me along the lake, picnic with me in the forest?”

“I will.”

“I have some time coming. There’s something I have to wrap up first. Once I do, I’ll put in for it.”

“Then I’ll show you my world.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Is it foolish, Don, what we’re doing here, what we may be starting here?”

“Probably.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “I don’t care, Darcia.”

“Neither do I.” On a half laugh, she shook her head. “It’s so unlike me. I’m a practical woman.”

“And the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She laughed fully, delightedly. “Your eyes are dazzled—I suppose mine are, too. I’m sitting here in this lovely restaurant in this exciting city, and all I can think is I’m sitting here with this handsome man who can’t take his eyes off me.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather look at.”

“Handsome, charming man,” she added. “But looks, even charm, are only the surface.”

“You’ve got an amazing surface, and I like everything I’ve found under it so far.”

“It’s only our second date,” she reminded him, and her eyes sparkled like her wine. “There’s more.”

“I’m looking forward to discovering you, Darcia. We don’t have to rush it. Well, hard to rush it anyway when we’ll be on two different planets—or a planet and a satellite—in a few days.”

“I like to take things slowly, carefully. The job, as you know, can be difficult, demanding, so in my personal life I prefer the uncomplicated.”

She lifted her champagne again, smiling at him over the pale gold bubbles. “I didn’t ask you into my hotel room last night because this—you and I—this will be complicated.”

“I’ve been taking a break from complicated myself, in the personal area. But I want to see you again, spend time with you. I want to see what happens next.”

“I’ve given some thought to what happens next. And since I know what I’d like that to be, I’ll be asking you into my room tonight.”

He smiled back at her. “I was hoping you would.”

With the data Webster passed to her, Eve ran an analysis of Accounting for Renee’s squad. Then an analysis of the analysis. The flood of numbers, the puzzlement of percentages gave her a headache. And still she couldn’t see a clear pattern. She couldn’t see enough to point a finger at anyone in charge of the accounts.

She toggled away from that—maybe if she let the numbers rest they’d make more sense to her—and took another sweep through Renee’s squad. There she believed she saw a pattern, where Detective Lilah Strong, a rookie uniform, and two other detectives stood as abnormalities.

She needs clean cops, Eve calculated. To handle the piddly stuff, to turn in legit reports—and as fall guys when she needs or wants them. Use them, then lose them. One way or another.

She thought of Gail Devin, glanced at Peabody.

Her partner was in it deep and would stick, Eve knew, no matter how long it took, no matter how many layers needed to be shifted through.

She looked at her board.

On one side, Rickie Keener. Loser, criminal, junkie, low-life pig. But he was hers now.

On the other, Detective Gail Devin, by all reports a good cop with good instincts—and with the moral code to talk to an older, experienced cop she respected about her concerns over her boss.

Two sides of the scale, Eve decided, but she knew—she knew that while Renee may not have plunged the syringe or snapped the neck, she’d killed them both.

Added to one side of that scale, Detective Harold Strumb—stabbed to death in an alley while his partner and a squad mate walked away unharmed.

They wouldn’t be the only ones. And unless Renee went down, they wouldn’t be the last.

She opened Allo’s case notes, began to read.

She liked his style—terse, even pithy, but thorough. She noted he’d questioned Sergeant Runch’s invoices regularly. And when she correlated with Allo’s file under Renee’s command she found the lieutenant’s notations citing him as malingering or conflicting with fellow officers.

Eve started her own file on Allo’s cases during the seven-month period, the invoices, the evals. Not wanting to disturb Peabody, she sent her a memo to do the same on Devin, and to follow it, as she was with Allo, with a probability analysis.

While it ran, she began to study the Geraldi files she’d forced Renee to send her.

She put it on hold when Webster came in.

“You’ve got something?” she demanded.

“Nothing major. Why?”

“You look like you’ve got something. You look happy.”

“I’m a happy guy.”

She waved that away. “What have you got that’s minor then?”

“Marcell—partner of Strumb, the one who went down. IAB’s got a file on him.”

“Over Strumb?”

“No. Deals with before that. They interviewed and investigated him over a questionable termination—five years ago. There were witness reports claiming Marcell fired on full, twice, after the suspect had dropped his weapon and surrendered.”

“The determination?”

“Cleared him. The witnesses were two other dealers, so their statements were given the fish-eye. The suspect did have an illegal weapon and had discharged it. Marcell stuck to his story. The suspect remained armed and was again preparing to discharge. Reconstruction couldn’t disprove. However, there’s a note in the file—the one I had to slide out without notification. A big, fat question mark. Updated after both wits met violent ends.”

“Like Strumb and those wits.”

“Yeah. Marcell had an alibi in both cases. Solid.”

“For the wits on Strumb, yeah,” Eve agreed. “Solid but bogus. What did he use on the wits on the older deal?”

“He was on a stakeout with another officer. Freeman, coincidentally.”

Webster dropped into a chair. “I know he’s wrong—Freeman, too. You know it. The pattern’s saying they’re wrong in big, shiny letters. But we’re not there yet.”

“More there than we were twenty-four hours ago.”

“Can’t argue. In other news. I’ve started my own file on everyone currently in Renee’s squad—including her. There’s plenty of shadow there, Dallas. If I could take this to my boss, we’d break it open, and we’d damn well be there.”

“People slip out of shadows, Webster, just like Marcell. I’m not jeopardizing slamming this lid down so IAB can make a big bang.”

“I don’t give a shit about the bang, Dallas.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I thought you did. I contacted and spoke with DS Allo and have his case notes from the seven months he was with the squad under her. It’s no wonder she needed him gone. He doesn’t miss anything.”

“You brought him in?”

“I made a judgment call. He knew Runch was skimming and reported it to his lieutenant.”

“Did he document?”

“He has detailed notes, times, dates. I doubt we’ll find them corroborated in her files. What he got in return was the first rip in a thirty-year career. He suspected Renee. I’ve written up my conversation with him, and I’ve got a copy for you. Attached to it is the file on Gail Devin.”

“The other officer in her squad who went down.”

“Allo knew her, and she came to him with concerns about their lieutenant and the squad that mirrored his. But, I think, instead of transferring out, she not only stuck but she might’ve pushed it. She talked to somebody else or started documenting—something—and they took her out.”

“If you’re right, and fuck it, Dallas, it feels right, that makes two cops she’s killed.”

“I’m betting more. Peabody’s working the Devin angle. She’ll copy you on what she finds or concludes. Contact you if she needs any cover with the digging.”

He nodded. “So ... you went a round with Garnet today, and he lost. Did you set him up or did he just fall into it?”

“Some of both. He tried to cover why he and Bix accessed my vic’s flop by some bullshit about a connection to a major investigation they’re working. That was a stupid move, because it handed me the files. The thing is, the files aren’t complete. She did some deleting, rearranging. There’s something off. I’ve read enough of her reports by now, her style there, to know she slid things around. Things she didn’t want me to see.”

“Do you want me to find an IAB angle on the investigation?”

“Not yet. I’ve got a way around her game. But a little whiff of IAB nosing around Garnet wouldn’t hurt.”

“More pressure on him.”

“That’s right. He’ll blow. If I can get him in, he’ll turn on her to save his own ass. Last thing, I’d like you to dig around, see if there’s been any dirt or accusation of dirt on Strong, Detective Lilah, in Renee’s squad. She’s new there, and her record reads solid. And my read of her is she doesn’t like the boss or the setup.”

“Clean cop, female cop.” Webster weighed it out. “You’re looking for a mole.”

“If I use her, if she’s clean and she agrees, I want her protected against an IAB hit if she needs to do or profess herself willing to do what would earn her one.”

“I’ll look at her, and if it goes, I’ll have it all documented. She’s undercover, sanctioned. Whitney needs to sign off.”

“It won’t be a problem.” She held up a finger when her ’link signaled. “It’s Feeney. What ya got?” she answered.

A thin smile lightened his hangdog face. “I thought you’d like to hear this. Renee’s in her vehicle, and just had a ’link conversation.”

“Roll it out.”

“One sec. Patching the recording on.”

“What the hell,” Eve decided. “Incoming ’link transmission on wall screen.” She glanced over, saw Peabody grin.

“Thanks.”

She saw Renee first, behind the wheel, fingers tapping, shoulders swaying to the beat of the music she’d selected.

“Likes her new ride,” Eve murmured. “Nice upgrade.”

When Renee’s ’link signaled, she cut her eyes down—dash screen readout, Eve concluded. Her face went hard. “Goddamn it. Transfer transmission to pocket ’link two.” She snatched it up, shoved it into its on-dash slot. “Garnet.”

The angle blocked the pocket ’link’s screen, but his voice came through loud and clear.

“You said you were going to fix it. Fuck this, Oberman. I’m not taking a thirty-day rip from that cunt because you can’t figure out how to slap her down.”

“Calm down. And don’t contact me about this or anything else unless it’s on the safe ’link. You know how I feel about that.”

“I’ll calm down when you do what you’re supposed to do. You’d better have my back on this.”

“Bill, I went directly to Whitney on your behalf. I explained the situation, that in my view it was simply a heated exchange between you and the lieutenant. That you were, very understandably, protecting an investigation you’ve put considerable man-hours, considered effort into—and which is at a tipping point. I went to bat for you, Bill, just as I said I would. And because I did, Whitney called her up. She won’t budge.”

“I’ll budge the fucking whore.”

“You listen to me. You listen to me,” Renee said with a whip in her voice. “I’ll handle her. I’m going to try another approach. You stay clear, do you read me? If you have to take this rip, I’ll make it up to you. Jesus, Garnet, if it sticks, look at it like a month’s vacation. Go to the beach. You know how you love the beach.”

“Fuck that, and fuck you if you think I’m going to let this cut me out of the Geraldi deal.”

“Nobody’s cutting you out of anything. If you’d get yourself under some damn control we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

The tone shook with anger, accusation. Not, Eve thought, the right way to handle a man whose fuse was already lit and running.

“Goddamn Dallas wouldn’t be in your face, or mine, if you hadn’t screwed up in the first place. And you wouldn’t be facing a rip if you’d held it together. You went at her, for Christ’s sake, in my office, under my nose. You made physical contact.”

“She got in my fucking way.”

“And you’re getting in mine. I’m putting myself out for you, and I don’t like putting myself out. Remember that.”

“And you remember just what I can do if you try to fuck with me. Remember who knows where the bodies are buried, where the dirt’s stored. If you want to keep what you’ve got, Renee sweetie, you make damn sure I keep mine.”

“Asshole!” she spewed, pounding a fist on the wheel when he broke transmission.

Feeney came back on. “Pretty, huh? After she pulled into her garage. Sat there stewing in her vehicle for a while. Didn’t make any more contacts.”

“Very sweet. No actual admissions of wrongdoing, but plenty of insinuations. He’s on the heat, and she knows it.”

“He’s still useful to her,” Webster put in, “so she wants to keep him.”

“Definitely,” Eve agreed, “but more than that, he works for her, she took him on, and she damn well needs him to remember who’s ... top dog.”

“She loses it when her authority’s questioned or threatened.” Peabody waited for Eve’s nod. “Under it, I don’t think she’s as confident as she wants to be, even thinks she is. She’s scared of losing the controls because holding the controls is what matters most to her.”

“I believe you’d do Mira proud with that analysis,” Eve told her.

“Fear makes her dangerous.”

“Then we’re going to make her very, very dangerous.” And, Eve thought, she would personally revel in it. “We’ll have to see how she intends to handle me. On the Giraldi investigation, according to the file, Garnet and Bix have been tracing a shipment coming in within the next two weeks for the Giraldi family—specifically for Anthony G. She’s altered some in the file, but I’m going to take care of that. My research indicates Anthony Giraldi deals primarily in Zeus and hard-line sex drugs like Whore and Rabbit.”

She frowned as her ’link signaled another incoming. “Oh, look here. It’s Renee sweetie. Stay on, Feeney, answering as conference trans, blind incoming to current contact.

“Dallas,” she answered with an edge of impatience.

“Lieutenant.” Renee gave her a sober look through the screen. “I understand I’m not your favorite person at the moment.”

“You hit down the list.”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, and that was just exacerbated by what transpired in my office today. I’m hoping we can come to terms, find a middle ground. I’d like to buy you a drink, to apologize, and to talk this out. Lieutenant to lieutenant.”

“I’m working a case, Oberman.”

“We’re both busy women. This friction between us is disruptive. I’m trying to reach out, Dallas, so we can smooth this over and both do our jobs.”

Eve leaned back as if considering. “You want to buy me a drink? Fine. O’Riley’s Pub, Upper West on Seventh. In an hour.”

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you there.”

“It could be a setup,” Peabody said immediately after Renee clicked off. “She could have Bix or another of her gorillas lie in wait for you.”

“She can’t afford to take me out now. Not when we’re having this ‘friction.’ When everybody at Central’s talking about us butting heads. Shines another light, and she wants to dim them.”

“She could let Garnet know where you’ll be and when,” Feeney put in. “Stir him up so he goes at you. It all falls on him.”

“If it fell he’d start talking, and she knows it.”

“He can’t talk if she takes him out. He goes for you, takes you out or at least puts you down. And she rides to the rescue, has to take out one of her own officers in your defense. It’d be a good play.”

Eve had to agree. “Yeah, but I don’t think she’s as smart as you, Feeney, or has time to set it up. She’s not desperate yet. She’s pissed off and she’s off balance.”

“I’m going with you,” Peabody insisted. “I’ll back you up.”

“Peabody, she’s researched me, so she knows who you are, knows you’re my partner. If she spots you, this could fall apart.”

“I’ll do it.” Webster glanced at his wrist unit. “She doesn’t know me—and in any case, IAB’s good at blending. She won’t make me.”

“She’s not going to try for me. It’s not her play, not now.”

“Regardless, I’m backup.”

“Backup for what?” Roarke asked as he came in.

“For nothing I need it for. I’m having a drink with Renee, at her request. I told her O’Riley’s, in an hour. I heated things up some today, and she wants to cool them down.”

“She’s already killed—or had two cops killed,” Webster told him. “That we know of. Sometimes you know what you can’t yet prove,” he said before Eve could speak. “I’m going to back her up. I’ve got soft clothes in my vehicle,” he told Eve. “She won’t make me.”

“I’ll be backing the lieutenant up,” Roarke said. “Or I should say Webster and I will.”

“She knows Dallas,” Webster pointed out, “so she sure as hell knows you and that you’re married. She won’t talk with you around.”

“She won’t see me, will she? Tell Webster why you selected O’Riley’s.”

“Because it’s close, and because he owns it.”

“There’s a snug behind the bar. A room,” Roarke explained. “We can monitor them from there.”

“I’m already monitored.” Eve tapped her chest. “You put the damn thing on me this morning.”

“So I did,” Roarke agreed. “And very pleasant duty it was. We’ll be monitoring from on site. Would you still like to change, Detective?”

“Yeah. In case I need to go out of the back room for any reason.”

“Summerset can show you a room for that then.”

“I’ll get on that.”

“This is over the top,” Eve insisted when Webster walked out.

“She’s a cop killer. You’re a cop.” Roarke tapped her chin. “You’re my cop.”

“If you’re going to get squishy, I’m closing off,” Feeney said. “We’ll have you covered from here, Dallas.”

“I’m going to be so covered I might as well be smothered.”

“I feel better,” Peabody commented.

“Oh well, then it’s all worth it.”

“While you’re having your drink, I’m going to ask McNab to come in, work this with me from this point.”

Still miffed, Eve shrugged.

“You can drive me over,” Roarke said. “When you’re in and clear, I’ll take Webster in through the back of the snug. And on the way, we can fill each other in on how we spent our days.”

“You might as well ride with us,” Eve said to Webster.

“Actually, I’ll need to take off after the meet—if we’re clear. I have a life outside the job, Dallas,” he added when she frowned at him. “And I’m going to get back to it once we’re clear of the meet.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

Roarke slid into the passenger seat. “So, what have you done today that persuades Renee she needs to buy you a drink?”

“I maneuvered Garnet into a thirty-day rip, which didn’t take much—and to do the mouthing off in her office, in front of her face. So that makes her look bad—like she can’t control her men.”

“That must’ve been satisfying.”

“Oh, yeah. Among other things I did today, I went to the Bronx.”

She filled him in on the conversation with Allo as she drove.

“You gave Peabody that angle of the investigation because of her experience in the locker room.”

“Partly. She’s good with the tiny details, and I want the answers on Devin but don’t have time right now to dig in. Not the way Devin deserves. And if Peabody’s able to gather the evidence that points to Renee, or her command, on that officer, it’s going to outweigh that locker room experience. It’s not payback. It’s justice. She’ll have helped get justice for another cop, and it’ll matter a lot to her.”

“Which shows, my darling Eve, the difference between a strong, intelligent, and—though you won’t like the word—sensitive leader and one who aims to lead only for gain.”

She’d have preferred intuitive to sensitive, but let it go.

“How did everybody miss it, Roarke? Start with her father—but I guess there are times a father doesn’t see or has to pretend he doesn’t. Her trainer. I looked at him. Sterling record, trained good cops. It feels to me like her father had a hand in picking him for her—they were partners for eight years—about the same age. Mira missed it, Whitney missed it, her captain, her previous LTs. She slid right through.”

“She wasn’t always dirty.”

“Fuck she wasn’t,” Eve said with some force. “She may not have started her ‘business’ until a few years ago, but she was always dirty. Some cops who work under her, she gives them a buzz, and at least two of them end up dead.

“You know why she didn’t get between me and Garnet today—and that’s just what she should have done, clean or dirty. Why she didn’t move to control him quick enough? Because having him go at me gave her a nice little tingle. She liked it, and I’m damn sure she would have loved it if he’d beat me bloody in front of her. She’s got the brains to know she can’t have that, had to maintain, but she’s got the belly for it. I screwed up her orderly pile, so she’d love to watch me bleed.”

“And you didn’t want backup?”

“She’d love it,” Eve told him, “but she can’t afford it. Not yet.”

She found a spot a block from the pub, snagged it. “Since Webster’s got a life, you’ll need to wait for him to find a spot, walk him in.”

“I’ll be walking my wife in first—or at least to the point where I can watch her go in. They’ve got a corner table ready for you.”

“Did you put muscle in there?”

“Darling.” He tapped her chin. “I always have muscle in there. It’s an Irish pub, after all.”

Her ’link signaled again. “It’s Darcia. You can watch me from here—and I’ll be talking to another cop while I walk half a block. I think I’m covered if some bad guy jumps out, and I faint from fear.”

He had to grin at her as he watched her walk away.

“Dallas.”

“Hi. I was hoping we could make good on that drink.”

“Actually, right now ... would be good,” she decided. “Or say in thirty? O’Riley’s Pub,” Eve said, and gave Darcia the address. “Can you get here?”

“I’m loving getting around in New York.”

“Great. Listen, I’m actually walking into the place now. I have a meet—another cop. You could do me a favor.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t come over to the table unless I signal you. If I don’t, I’ve still got to work it a little. When I do, you could stroll on over. Like you’ve just come in and spotted me—but we had a meet set.”

“No problem. Are you going to tell me why?”

“One of these days.”

“All right then, half an hour.”

“Chief Angelo?” The title made Darcia smile. “You’re easier to work with than I remember.”

“But I’m not working, am I?”

Eve tucked her ’link away and strolled into O’Riley’s.

Fiddle music piped out of the speakers, a backdrop to conversations among the grab-a-drink-after-work crowd. In a few hours, she knew, musicians would settle into one of the booths with their instruments, pints at the ready, and fill the place with bright reels and sad songs. The bartenders would hustle, pulling pints, pouring glasses for the crowd that invariably packed in.

The little redhead waved to her, gestured to a table for two. Eve remembered her from when she’d joined Roarke and a couple of his out-of-town business associates who’d wanted a taste of an Irish pub, New York style.

“Get you a drink, Lieutenant?” the redhead asked, and balanced her tray on her hip.

“Not yet, thanks.”

“Just give me a sign when you’re ready.”

Eve sat down, back to the wall, scanned the customers. Coworkers winding down, some tourists, a guy doing his best to hit on a couple of twenty-somethings who were stringing him along.

Cop didn’t blip on her radar.

And Renee came in.

She’d changed from her power suit into a little black number that showcased her body, left toned arms bare. She’d paired it with hot red heels so her toes, painted the same color, could play peekaboo, and left her rain of blond loose. The complex series of sparkling links around her neck held a round red pendant.

She did her own scan, Eve noted, a slow sweep with eyes expertly shadowed and smudged. Then sent Eve a friendly smile as she walked toward the table.

She likes knowing she’s caught attention, Eve thought, that men are checking her out and women are wondering who she is.

“Thanks for meeting me.” Renee slid onto her chair. “I hope I’m not late.”

“No.”

“Do you come here a lot? It looks like a nice, friendly place. Unpretentious. A working man’s bar.”

Eve wondered what the reaction might have been if she’d set the meet at the Down and Dirty. “Now and then,” she said, and caught the waitress’s eye. “Nice outfit,” she commented. “You didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“Actually I’m meeting my parents for dinner later. Have you—”

She broke off as the redhead came to the table. “What can I get you, ladies?”

“Pepsi, on ice,” Eve told her.

“Oh, come on, Dallas, live a little.” With a bright, beaming smile, Renee tossed back her hair. “We’re off duty, aren’t we? And I’m buying.”

“Pepsi,” Eve repeated, “on ice.”

“Well, I’m off duty. I’ll have a vodka martini, straight up, two olives.”

“I’ll get those right to you.” The waitress set a snack bowl of pretzels on the table, then went to put the order in.

“I was going to ask if you’d ever met my father.”

“Not formally, no.”

“I’ll have to introduce you sometime. I’m sure you’d enjoy each other.” Renee took a pretzel from the bowl, broke it in half, nibbled. “We should have dinner. You, your husband, my father and I. Roarke’s certainly a man I’d like to meet.”

“Why?”

“Like my father, he has a strong reputation, and it would seem, a gift for command. He’d have to, to have reached his level of success. It must be fascinating, being married to a man who commands that much power, with so many varied . . . interests. I heard you vacationed in Europe this summer.”

“You want to talk about my summer vacation?”

“I don’t see any reason you and I can’t be friendly, do you?”

“Do you want a list?”

Renee sighed, sat back, and continued to nibble on the tiny piece of pretzel. “We really did get off on the wrong foot, and I’m willing to take responsibility for a great deal of that. I was upset about Keener, and I admit, territorial. So we butted heads when it would’ve been more efficient, and certainly more productive, to work in tandem.”

She paused again when the waitress returned with their drinks. “Anything else I can get you for now?”

“We’re good,” Eve told her. “Thanks.”

Renee lifted her glass. “Why don’t we drink to a fresh start?”

Eve left her glass where it was. “Why don’t you define fresh start?”

In the snug, Webster watched the exchange. “She’s chapping Renee’s ass.”

“She’s good at it,” Roarke agreed. “She’ll wind her up. The more Eve rejects the overtures, the more Renee will push.”

“It’s a good play. Garnet’s hammering her on one side, Dallas is blocking her on the other. You know Dallas is trying to get Renee to come at her—to set Bix on her.”

“I know my wife very well.”

The faint emphasis on my wife had Webster shoving his hands in his pockets. “I thought you and I were settled.”

“It’s hard to resist giving you the needle now and again. See the body language there,” Roarke pointed out. “Eve, slouched, kicked back. Disinterested. Renee tipped forward a bit. Working hard to engage. But her foot taps under the table—hard rhythm. She’s angry.”

Roarke glanced over, smiled at Webster. “Fancy a beer?”

“Yeah, but until this is done, I’m on. You go ahead.”

“Ah well, we’ll wait on it.”

At the table, Renee sipped her martini. “I’m apologizing for not giving you my full cooperation over Keener. He’d been my CI for a long time, and though I didn’t use him often in the last few years, we had a history. I felt, right from the start, you were shutting me out. I reacted to that. You and I have different styles, Dallas, obviously. And they’ve clashed. I’d like to put that behind us.”

Eve shrugged, and at last picked up her glass. “My investigation of Keener’s murder may require more information from you, may require me to question members of your squad who knew him, had dealings with him.”

“Understood. But I can tell you neither I nor anyone in the squad used Keener much. He’d occasionally feed me some small change, and I’d see he got a twenty. But I kept him as a CI mostly out of sentiment. He used more than he should have, and his information had become less and less reliable. He didn’t have solid contacts anymore.”

“Then why did somebody kill him, and go to so much trouble to stage it as an OD?”

“I can’t answer that. Hopefully your own CI has some information that will give you some lines there. I’m asking that we cooperate with each other on this. I’ll give you whatever I can to aid your investigation. I want to be in the loop. I want to know what you’ve got.”

“I’ll copy you on all data I deem appropriate.”

“That’s a start.” Obviously pleased with that, Renee put on the earnest. “Now, about my detective. Dallas, I want you to understand when Bix and Garnet went into that flop ... it was just bad timing. If they’d known he was dead, you were investigating, I promise you, they’d have come to you with full disclosure.”

“I’m curious. If Keener didn’t have solid contacts, only fed you small change and so on, why did your detective feel he had some connection to or information on the Giraldi matter? And feel so strongly enough to illegally enter his residence? I never got an answer to that.”

“They followed a tip, and frankly, I think it was a blind. I agree they acted hastily, and I’ve spoken with both of them about it. If they’d informed me before following the tip, I could have told them Keener was dead. We’d have avoided all this. I promise you it won’t happen again.

“About Garnet—”

“You don’t want to go there.”

“I have to.” Renee spread her hands in appeal. “I’m his lieutenant. He was absolutely and completely in the wrong. There’s no excuse.”

“Fine, we agree. Subject closed.”

“Do you ever bend?” Renee snapped. “He lost his temper. You were in his face, and he lost his temper. He’s put a lot of OT in on the investigation, done miles of legwork. He was on edge, and the confrontation with you pushed him over.”

“He damn near knocked me over,” Eve reminded her.

“And that’s regrettable. You have my file, and you know how essential he is to closing this case. I’m asking you for a little consideration. I’m asking you to let me discipline my own man, my own way. You can’t tell me you’ve never had one of yours snap back at you, or another superior officer.”

“If one of my men behaved in the way yours did today, I’d write him up myself. And I wouldn’t make excuses for him, much less whine about needing him on an investigation he’s obviously too strung out to work efficiently.”

Eve watched Darcia step into the pub as Renee’s hand fisted on the table.

“Well shit,” Webster muttered when Darcia moved into the range of the monitor. “What are the odds?”

Roarke arched an eyebrow at Webster’s reaction. “Very attractive, isn’t she? The sultry brunette. She’s Darcia Angelo, Chief of Police on Olympus.”

“Yeah. We’ve met.”

“Really?” Roarke’s smile spread slowly as he added two and two into four. “This just gets more and more interesting.”

“Christ” was Webster’s opinion. “I’m really going to want that beer.”

In the pub, Darcia wandered to the bar, shook her head at the bar-tender, and settled down to watch the table.

“I take responsibility,” Renee began.

“It’s a little late for that.”

“Goddamn it. I do need Garnet. You pushed. He pushed back. He was wrong, and he’s earned a good, hard slap for it. I’ll give him one. Two weeks without pay after the investigation closes, and he’ll have to ride a desk for another two. I’m just asking you to pull the rip.”

Now Eve shifted, eased forward. “You’ve got the nerve to ask me for a solid when you stood there, did nothing, while your man insulted me, while he threatened me, while he struck out at me. And you want to give him a slap on the wrist for it—when it’s convenient for you? You dangle dinner with Dad at me to pave the way, like I’d sit up and say ‘yes, please.’ Your man’s a hothead, one with no respect for authority. Including yours. Nobody talks to me as he did today and walks away smiling. If he were mine, he’d get the boot.”

“He’s not yours.”

“Exactly.” Eve shrugged, sent a subtle signal to Darcia. “He’s your problem.”