“I’ll see that you get more data, and that you get it ahead of the pack.”
“And when you’ve got a suspect.”
“You’ll get the name first.”
Trusting Eve’s word, Nadine nodded as she forked up another shell. “Plus a one-on-one with the suspect and another with you.”
“I can’t guarantee the suspect. You know I can’t,” Eve continued before Nadine could interrupt. “The perp has rights to choose his own media, or to refuse it all. The best I can do is suggest, maybe even encourage.”
“I want pictures. Don’t tell me you can’t guarantee. You can find a way to see that I get video of the arrest. I want to be on the scene.”
“I’ll weigh that in when the time comes. In exchange, I want everything you have, every tip that comes in, every rumor, every story lead. No broadcast surprises.”
Nadine slipped pasta between her lips. “I can’t guarantee,” she said sweetly. “My associates have their own agenda.”
“What you know, when you know it,” Eve said flatly. “And anything that comes out of intramedia espionage.” At Nadine’s innocent expression, Eve snorted. “Stations spy on stations, reporters spy on reporters. Getting the story on air first is the name of the game. You’ve got a good batting average, Nadine, or I wouldn’t be bothering with you.”
“I’ll say the same.” Nadine sipped her wine. “And for the most part, I trust you, even if you have no taste in wine. This is barely one step up from horse piss.”
Eve sat back and laughed. It felt good, it felt easy, and when Nadine grinned in return, they had a deal.
“Let me see yours,” Nadine requested. “And I’ll let you see mine.”
“The biggest thing I’ve got,” Eve began, “is a missing umbrella.”
Eve met Feeney at Cicely Towers’s apartment at ten the following morning. One look at his hangdog expression and she knew the news wasn’t going to be sunny.
“What wall did you hit?”
“On the ’link.” He waited while Eve disarmed the police security on the door, then followed her inside. “She had plenty of transmissions, kept the unit on auto record. Your tag was on the disc.”
“That’s right, I took it into evidence. Are you trying to tell me no one contacted her to arrange a meet at the Five Moons?”
“I’m trying to tell you I can’t tell you.” In disgust, Feeney ran a hand through his wiry hair. “Her last call came in at eleven thirty, the transmission ended at eleven forty-three.”
“And?”
“She erased the rec
ording. I can get the times, but that’s it. The communication, audio, video, are zapped. She zapped them,” he continued. “From this unit.”
“She erased the call,” Eve murmured and began to pace. “Why would she do that? She had the unit on auto; that’s standard for law enforcers, even for personal calls. But she erased this one. Because she didn’t want any record of who called and why.”
She turned back. “You’re sure nobody tampered with the disc after it was in evidence?”
Feeney looked pained, then insulted. “Dallas,” was all he said.
“Okay, okay, so she zapped it before she went out. That tells me she wasn’t afraid, personally, but was protecting herself—or somebody else. If it had to do with a case, she’d have wanted it on record. She’d have made damn sure it was on record.”
“I’d say so. If it was a snitch, she could have put a lock on it under her private code, but it doesn’t make sense to zap it.”
“We’ll check her cases anyway, all the way back.” She didn’t have to see his face to know Feeney was rolling his eyes. “Let me think,” she muttered. “She left City Hall at nineteen twenty-six. That’s on her log. And several witnesses saw her. Her last stop was the women’s lounge where she freshened up for the evening and chatted with an associate. The associate tells me her mood was calm but upbeat. She’d had a good day in court.”
“Fluentes is going up. She laid the groundwork. Taking her out won’t change that.”
“He might have thought different. We’ll see about that. She didn’t come back here.” Frowning, Eve scanned the room. “She didn’t have time, so she went straight to the restaurant and met Hammett. I’ve been by there. His story and his time frame check out with the staff.”
“You’ve been busy.”