“It’s all connected. I’ll fill you in, as much as I’m able, on the way to the Dukes.”
“Blackmail,” Peabody said at the first stoplight on route. “Greene sure had his fingers in a lot of nasty pies.”
“Lucrative pies. Raked in over three million annually with this scam.”
“You think Purity infected him because of the blackmail?”
“Yeah, I do. Look at the others. Those were child predators. Greene, he dealt some in the adolescent arena, but the bulk of his clientele and employees were adults.”
“You said you thought Purity would start expanding their criteria.”
“And they will. Not this soon. There are plenty more in Fitzhugh’s ilk to keep them busy. Greene teeters on the line. I think someone, maybe more than one, had personal reasons for wanting Greene dead. Eliminating another scumbag was a factor, but ditching a blackmail payment, and the threat of exposure, makes a real nice bonus. But it was stupid. A mistake. Killing the blackmailer before you destroy the evidence that ties you to him.”
“Can you tell me if Dukes was on the blackmail list?”
“No. But he knows how it’s done. He knows who’s been infected or scheduled for infection. He’s part of the foundation, so we shake him. Or his wife. She’s a weak point.”
“You think she’ll roll on him?”
“She might, if she’s scared enough. She’s not a player, but she knows Dukes—his schedule, his habits. How else could she tailor the household to suit him? And if he thinks we’re pushing her, he might get pissed enough to slip up. He’s got a hot button.”
Eve hunted up a parking spot, the
n jaywalked diagonally across the street toward the Dukes’s residence. The first thing she noticed were the wilted flowers by the door.
“They’re gone.”
Peabody followed the direction of Eve’s cold stare. “Maybe she forgot to water them.”
“No, she wouldn’t forget. Probably has a daily duty list. Damn it. Damn it.” She rang the buzzer anyway, waited, rang again.
“Curtains are still at the windows.” Peabody craned her neck to see inside. “Furniture’s still in there.”
“They left it. Got out fast. They were probably packed and gone within twenty-four hours of our first visit.”
She started working the street, knocking on doors until one opened for her. She offered her badge to a snowy-haired woman in a pink tracksuit.
“Is something wrong? Has there been an accident? My husband—”
“No, ma’am. Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry to alarm you. I’m looking for some of your neighbors. The Dukes. They don’t answer their door.”
“The Dukes.” She patted her hair as if to stir her thoughts. “I’m not sure I . . . oh, of course. Of course. I saw the story on the media report. Oh dear, you’re the policewoman they’re going to sue.”
“I don’t believe any legal action has been taken as yet. Do you know where they are?”
“Goodness. I don’t really know them. Pretty young woman. I’d see her walking to the market every Monday and Thursday. Nine-thirty. You could set your wrist unit by her. But now that you mention it, I don’t know the last time . . . They lost their older son, didn’t they? They only moved in two years ago. I never knew a thing about it. They didn’t really talk to any of the neighbors. Some people never do. It’s a terrible, terrible thing to lose a child.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’d see him come and go now and then. Didn’t look like a very kind sort of man. On Sundays they’d all go out together. Ten o’clock sharp. To church, I imagine from the way they were dressed. Back by twelve-thirty. You never saw the boy playing outside, with other children. I never saw another child go into that house.”
She sighed, staring across the street now. “I suppose they kept him close, afraid something would happen to him, too. Hold on, there’s Nita coming out. My jogging partner.”
She waved wildly at the woman who came out of a building directly across the street. She, too, wore a tracksuit. In powder blue.
“Nita doesn’t miss a trick,” the other woman said out of the corner of her mouth. “You ask her about them.”
“Getting yourself arrested?” Nita said cheerfully when she joined them. “Better lock her up tight, Officer. Sal’s a slippery one.”