“Tourist from Ohio, right?”
“Omaha. Same difference. The concerned citizen Trueheart’s escorting out has come forward as a wit.”
“That mope one of your weasels?”
“Yeah, he’s on my roll.” Baxter got comfortable, planting his ass on the table. “Thing is, he saw it go down, scratched his butt over it for a day or so, then tagged me. Vic went down the underground, under Broadway and Thirty-eighth. Hell’s Fire. You know the joint?”
“Yeah. S-and-M theme, lots of party favors. Mock human sacrifices nightly. I like to drop in to relax after a long shift.”
Baxter grinned. “Just your style. So the vic strolls in, flashy wrist unit, shiny shoes, big attitude. Rents a slave, pays for the deluxe bondage package.”
“Deluxe?”
“That would be your chains, whips, ball gag in your choice of colors, mini-Taser, leash, and collar. Three-hour rental.”
“What, no costumes?”
“Costumes are the super deluxe pack. But he sprang for one of the display cubes so he could put on a show for the crowd.”
“Nice.”
“He wants to score before he gets his rocks off, so he zeros in on Sykes.” Baxter, not as fussy about coffee as Eve, walked over and keyed in his code on the machine. “You want?”
“No. I can live without drinking mud made from dirt and horse piss.”
“He wants a free sample—can you beat it—wants a freebie before he pays. Sykes tells him to fuck off, but the guy hounds him. He’s got plenty to spend, but he wants a taste first. Pokes at Sykes, flashes a wad. ‘Gimme a taste and if I like it, I’ll buy a full bag.’ So Sykes, who’d had a free sample or two himself, says, ‘I’ll give you a taste, fuckface, see how you like this.’ And proceeds to stick him a couple dozen times with his buck knife.”
Eve waited until Baxter planted his ass again. “He got the point across.”
“Har. After said point is made, Sykes hauls Barrister’s dead body up, carries him out of the club, and dumps him at the bottom of the stairs on the passage down on Broadway. Where he was subsequently tripped over by a couple of idiot college kids who thought they’d like an underground adventure.”
“An urban fable. You know where to find Sykes?”
“Got a couple of haunts in addition to his last known. I figure on trying the last known first. Try to keep my kid above the sidewalk. It’s a jungle down there.”
“Either way, close it up.”
“I thought I’d let Trueheart take the lead on the interview once we have Sykes in the box. Give him some play.”
Eve thought of the baby-faced Trueheart. It would probably be good for him, and Baxter wouldn’t let it go south. “Your call. Notify Illegals after you close it up. They can tag on whatever charges they want to pick from the menu. But sew up the Murder Two first.”
“That’s the plan. Oh, and break a leg.”
“What?”
“That’s what you say to somebody before a performance, which seems pretty damn stupid to me. Now. Nadine.”
“Christ,” was all she said, and stalked out.
She found Peabody at Vending just down from the bull pen. Peabody’s face was a study in concentration as she scanned the offerings. “Energy Bar or Goo-Goo bar. The Energy Bar is, of course, nutritionally balanced, but the Goo-Goo is delicious and will provide me with great joy until the guilt sets in. Which should it be?”
“You’re going to go for the fake chocolate and sugar. Why torture yourself over it?”
“Please, Lieutenant, this is a process. The torture is part of the process. Goo-Goo it is. You want?”
What she wanted was the candy bar she’d hidden in her office, but that was not to be. “Yeah, what the hell.”
While the machine chirped out the Goo-Goo jingle and the nutritional data until Eve wanted to smash it with a hammer, she and Peabody stood munching on candy. “I want Williams picked up, brought down for questioning. We’ll send a couple of big, stone-faced, intimidating uniforms to the school.”